The Hunt for Revenge
by elektra30
Summary: The golden trio begin their 6th year, only to find nemesis Draco Malfoy more dangerous than ever, after his father's murder by Voldemort. Hermione is sent to find out more, but will she get more than what she bargained for? DHr, with a Horcrux twist.
1. The Journey Ahead

**Disclaimer: **All characters (so far) and trademark names (Hogwarts, etc) belong to J.K.R., but the plot is solely mine.

**A/N:** Hi! After a two-year long hiatus in fic writing, and a renewed interest in HP after re-reading HBP and anticipating the new movie, I've decided to come up with a new fic with a brand new storyline, but featuring the same pairing of Draco and Hermione. Hope you guys enjoy it, again, I stress that I prefer drama and action rather than lemony stuff, so that's what you guys are gonna be reading, but I still promise a lot of tangy D/H flavour, enough to satisfy D/H fans!

* * *

Draco Malfoy made his way to the front of the Hogwarts Express, his mouth set in a thin, straight, line. His eyes were void of expression, as he strode down the corridors, slamming any cabin doors that were in his way, ignoring the cries of indignance or pain. Many a head popped out, cursing, hoping to hex the insufferable prat, but when they saw the hint of a silvery-blond mop, they hurriedly retreated back into the cabin. With the mounting whispers around, Draco quickened his pace, shoving aside a couple of frightened first-years, and then there was a door right in his path, and his wand was ready to flick it shut, when a ginger-haired head came popping out.

"Hey, where'd you think... oh blimey bastard, it's..."

_SLAM!_

"OWWWW!"

Draco completely ignored that howl, and a few cabins down, he wrenched open the door to see a sober-looking Pansy Parkinson, and Crabbe and Goyle, who looked as white as the snow falling outside in thick sheets, trembling.

"I won't get so mad as to cast hexes on you idiots." Draco sneered, as he slammed the door behind him and took his place beside Pansy, who shot him a rather icy look. "And you neither."

"I wouldn't be in the least afraid," replied Pansy, coldly, turning her gaze towards the window, watching the snow crystallise into flakes for one second before they were blown away by the cold wind. "You'd know better."

Draco was about to say something nasty, when the door opened to reveal the friendly face of a rather overgrown elf. "Sirs, Ma'am, would you like..."

_WHAM!_

Draco's foot retracted from the door, and he glowered at the table in front of him. Crabbe and Goyle stole one glance at him, and then sank further into their seats, shaking even more. Pansy merely continued gazing out of the window, and there they remained, silent, for the entire train journey.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Damn that ferret!" howled Ron, as he tumbled backwards into the cabin, alarming Harry and Hermione, who immediately leapt out of their seats to catch him from hitting the table. "You'd think that he'd might become a little more civil with that lack of evil influence in the house!"

"On the contrary," remarked Hermione, rolling her eyes as she helped Harry lift Ron back up onto the seat, with the ginger-head rubbing his head ruefully. "He's probably filled with hatred more than ever. He's probably out to get everyone this term to vent his anger upon them."

"They said he's going to become a Death Eater," said Harry, frowning, as he opened the _Daily Prophet_, the photo of Lucius Malfoy in his most menacing pose gracing the front cover. The headlines were stark and blunt, as they danced in front of Hermione's eyes. She grabbed the paper from Harry and slammed it down on the table, startling Harry and Ron.

"You know that the _Daily Prophet_ won't say anything decent," said Hermione, pointedly, aiming her wand at the newspaper and transforming it into a paper crane. "Why would Malfoy want to become the servant of the man who just murdered his father? Given his current skills against the Dark Lord, I think Malfoy's smart enough to know that he doesn't stand a single chance."

"Then maybe he thinks that he needs to carry on his father's legacy and help to finish what his father didn't." Ron snorted, nursing the bump on his head. "One of a kind, they are!"

"That wouldn't be impossible," said Harry. "But I think even if Malfoy didn't want to, he doesn't really have a choice, does he? When Voldemort wants something, he gets it. And because Malfoy's smart enough to know he doesn't stand a chance, he can't ignore Voldemort's orders and risk death. Not when he's known to love his mother so much, he can't possibly leave her behind."

He now gazed out of the frosted window while Hermione and Ron contemplated those words. "By the way, this snow is really getting out of hand. Who ever heard of snow in summer!"

"Rufus Scrimgeour says it's Dumbledore's doing." Hermione shrugged as she leant back against the cushioned seat. "Why do the Ministers of Magic always turn out to be such stupid frogs?"

"I could imagine him as a crazy lion, not so much a frog." Harry laughed. "That man has been after me trying to find out Dumbledore's agenda. Can you believe it? Agenda?"

"He's got one himself all right!" Ron muttered.

"Anyway, it's probably You-Know-Who's doing," mused Hermione, leaning against the window and feeling the cold surge through her skin. "He's getting more powerful than ever, getting more distrustful than ever, getting more cold-blooded than ever. If not, he wouldn't have murdered one of his closest aides."

"Do you know what Lucius Malfoy was supposed to carry out that he didn't succeed with? Maybe that'll give us a clue to what Voldemort wants at this point in time," said Harry, sitting up and staring at Hermione, who threw her hands up in exasperation. "Like I would know!"

"I'm going to ask Dumbledore about this." Harry was starting to become eager. "And – and I just thought of something!"

The sudden burst of emotion on Harry's face was indescribable, except that Ron almost imagined a halo floating above his head. "Yes mate, go on."

Harry lowered his voice. "Hermione, you're doing patrol duty with Malfoy this summer, aren't you?"

Hermione was startled. "Y-yes, it's not like you didn't know, you were the most livid about it 'cos you thought he might..."

"Well, I just thought maybe you could try to – make friends with him."

Hermione stared at him in utmost disgust. "_What?_" Ron's eyes bulged.

"Well you see..." Harry cleared his throat. "If you tried to be a bit more civil and understanding towards him, he might find that you aren't one of those people trying to suck up to him now that he's feeling empty about his father's death and all that...and maybe you could somehow find out from him the going-ons of Voldemort."

"But I mean... _friends..._" Hermione was recoiling at an image of Draco Malfoy and her smiling at each other. "My goodness."

"It's not easy," admitted Harry. "I'd love to punch and hex him every moment that I see him. But..." He paused and chewed his lip. "I'm really running out of patience with Voldemort. He always seems to sneak off somewhere and continue to build up his power, whereas all I can do is to sit at Privet Drive and now the Burrow, and wait till I can come to school so that I can find out something more about him and do something about it! I don't want to wait till like after half the year's gone and suddenly stumble upon another chamber or a mysterious prisoner..." He trailed off, his eyes glazing over.

"Harry, this is ridiculous," interjected Ron, as Hermione looked at her fingers on her lap. "I know you want to avenge your parents, you want to avenge Sirius, but you're putting Hermione in a lot of risk, it's not like you don't know. If Malfoy really becomes a Death Eater, she's going to be in a really dangerous position if she tries to be too friendly with him! You were the one who thought she might get hexed during patrol duty! And he might think she was being meddlesome or exasperating or..."

"Am I _that_ exasperating?" Hermione finally found her voice. "I know what you're getting at, Harry."

"Hermione!"

"Ron." Hermione turned her gaze towards him, and he saw a look of defiance that surprised him. "It's our sixth year in Hogwarts. You-Know...I mean..." She cast a glance at Harry, who was looking expectantly at her. "_Voldemort_ has been eluding us for five whole years, and we can't let him get any stronger than he already is. I don't think Malfoy would dare to do anything that would make him any more conspicuous than he currently is. The whole school knows that his father was murdered by Voldemort. The whole school knows that he is a walking time-bomb. Even if the world is speculating that he's becoming a Death Eater, he probably doesn't want to let the whole school know that he's a walking killer, just like the one who murdered his father, especially if it's really like what Harry said – he doesn't have a choice."

"Then what if he does have a choice?" Ron muttered.

"In any case, it's worth a try, whether he was willing or not, if I can get him to open up a little, maybe from him we can understand the whole incident and get some insight into Voldemort's plans," replied Hermione, cocking an eyebrow to the radiant Harry, who was delighted that Hermione was so supportive of his plan. "'cos the _Daily Prophet_ clearly has no idea what went on, they're just speculating. But Harry, you need to ask Dumbledore first."

"Of course, I wouldn't send you into so much danger without asking him," said Harry, suddenly looking a bit more sober. "Boy, did I really ask you to do that?"

"I'm willing to," said Hermione, managing a smile, and Harry returned it. "But I have a condition."

"What?"

"You guys must always believe that I'm on your side. No matter what happens."

"This sounds really scary," murmured Ron, but he looked at his defiant friend, and managed a smile as well. "How could we not believe that, you gave Malfoy such a punch in third year that we're still secretly cheering in delight for every time we're under our bed-covers."

Hermione chuckled, and the two boys exchanged amused glances. But deep down, there was a niggling feeling that sixth year was not going to be altogether the most pleasant journey; in fact, it could become one of the most dangerous ever.


	2. Rage Riots

**Disclaimer:** I wished I lay claim to such amazing characters...unfortunately they remain under the copyright of J.K.R. and I am only responsible for the pairing of Draco and Hermione, and the indescribably painful and boiling rage of Corrinne Whitemayer, a self-created character I hope you all will like and appreciate (:

**A/N:** Thank you very much to those who reviewed, and those who showed their appreciation of the story through alerts, I'm very grateful for your support! I am open to all kinds of reviews, so as to improve on my writing skills and create better fics for all of you, so do drop one to let me know what you think (: For now, enjoy the second chapter!

P.S. A slight reminder that the fic is non-HBP compliant, so even as I include details of the new professors which are similar to HBP, the plot does not necessarily follow (:

* * *

Hermione sat down on her poster bed, fingering the folds of the pink sheets and a small smile crept up on the edge of her lips. It was really great to be back at Hogwarts, to study all the subjects she enjoyed, to be with the friends she loved, to carry out her prefectorial - at this point, her smile vanished and a scowl replaced it. Professor McGonagall had enclosed an extra letter for all prefects informing them of the duty list for both summer and winter shifts. The first name Hermione noticed on her list _just_ had to be "DRACO L. MALFOY", which thoroughly irked her and she had flung the letter to the corner of the room in disgust. Eventually when she finished reading to find her patrol partner for winter was to be Hannah Abbott, she heaved a sigh of relief and tucked the letter away. Ron had then come bursting into find out who her partners were and his tone of utter horror had brought the matter to Harry, which, of course, created a mini-explosion.

She laid back on her bed, kicking off her shoes lightly as the girls around her busied themselves with unpacking their things. Obviously, she had been really efficient in unpacking with a few flicks of her wand, whilst Parvati Patil on her right was still trying desperately to arrange her clothes by colour just with her wand. But Hermione was not really paying attention to her futile attempts. In her mind, Harry's words were playing over and over again, like a broken record, _make friends with him, make friends with him_. Hermione let out a little sigh. She had volunteered, it wasn't like Ron didn't try to stop her. She knew that if Harry did not play his cards before Voldemort whilst he was still in school, he would no longer have the magical protection of Hogwarts to save his skin. He wouldn't have much of an advantage even if he eventually became an Auror. And if Draco Malfoy was the key to the puzzle, then she was willing to help Harry find out more.

Just as the words 'Draco Malfoy' floated into her mind, accompanied by a sneering face of the Slytherin boy, Hermione's thoughts were broken with the repetition of the same name in the high-pitched voice of Lavender. "...Draco Malfoy is really going to become a Death-Eater?"

There was a loud buzz at that, with the girls excitedly debating this point.

"He knows that his father was killed by You-Know-Who because he failed to carry out his task. Everyone knows that failure to perform for You-Know-Who is rewarded by a ..." And Corrinne Whitemayer mimicked a slash across her throat. "So it's quite likely that Malfoy will try to be as loyal to You-Know-Who to carry on his father's loyalty."

"What kind of a son is he?" asked Parvati, disgusted, as she stopped trying to whisk her clothes into the cupboard for the umpteenth time. "How can he work for ... for that ... for You-Know-Who, the one who murdered his father!"

Hermione kept quiet, as Ginny's sharp voice cut in. "You people talk like you know Malfoy. Whether or not he becomes a Death Eater is none of our business, as long as we are in Hogwarts, we are safe!"

"So you say," said Corrinne, with a sneer, as she whipped around to look at Ginny, who was glaring at her. "But wait a minute, how can we be really safe, when even _Cedric Diggory_ was killed by You-Know-Who," and she drew closer to Ginny, "...as articulated by _Harry Potter_?"

Ginny turned white. "You..."

"Corrinne, that's enough!" Hermione slid down from her bed, glaring at Corrinne twice as fiercely as the blonde girl turned back to stare at the sudden interruption.

"What's with the defence of Draco Malfoy?" demanded Corrinne, her face burning with heat. "What's with all of you? You think that bloody beast will have so much courage to turn against You-Know-Who? You think that he'll avenge his father? You think he's so smart just because he tops in classes, just short of Know-It-All Miss Hermione Granger?" Hermione's face blanched at that. "I tell you that son of a bitch is just like his damned father, JUST LIKE HIM!"

It was only till the last sentence that Hermione finally realised why Corrinne was so worked up and so vile towards Draco Malfoy. In fact, he wasn't her target of fury. She had been on cloud nine that Lucius Malfoy, the man who had Cruciated her parents to insanity, had been finally murdered. And then she had come back to Hogwarts to find everyone almost in sympathy with Draco Malfoy, that he was to succeed his father as a Death-Eater and to work for his father's murderer. Naturally, she was outraged that nobody seemed to find Lucius Malfoy's death a victory, something worth celebrating for.

"Corrinne, I..."

Corrinne didn't even wait for Hermione to finish her sentence; the dormitory shook as the blonde girl ran out and slammed the door behind her. There was an awkward silence that hung over the dormitory. Then Hermione finally said, "It's time for supper," which got everyone going and hustling towards the door, leaving their beds in a mess.

Everyone, but Ginny.

Hermione sat down beside Ginny, who was still shaking. "Ginny, are you..."

"I'm okay," the redhead whispered. Her eyes were almost glazed.

"Ginny, if..."

"What if Corrinne was right?"

Hermione stared at Ginny in surprise. "What?"

"What if she was right about how Hogwarts isn't safe anymore?" whispered Ginny, looking fiercely at Hermione, gripping hold of her hands, startling the older girl. "What if You-Know-Who can come in here to kill Harry? What if Malfoy is the one to let him in? If he could kill Cedric, he can..."

"Ginny, you're not to imagine things!" Hermione gripped her hands back, looking very firmly back into Ginny's terrified eyes.

"Tom Riddle nearly killed Harry by using me with the diary." Ginny's eyes fell down to her hands, big tears spilling out of them. "He can do anything, Hermione, anything. And if Malfoy's going to become a Death Eater, regardless of whether he's doing it for his father or he's forced to do it, there's going to be a lot of trouble. And for Harry..."

Hermione understood that Ginny still cared a lot for Harry. Despite her attempts to date many other boys to forget Harry, he was still the one boy who stuck steadfastly in her mind. She also understood that Ginny was still nursing a big ball of guilt in her, especially when Harry had nearly been killed because of her foolishness to trust a diary back in her first year. Not knowing what else to say, she pulled Ginny into an embrace, hoping that her hug would convey to Ginny what she wished to comfort her with.

Yet in her mind, Ginny's words, Corrinne's words, Harry's words – they were all swimming relentlessly; Hermione felt a bubbling of despair rise up in her, and it was really uncomfortable, and unsettling...

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The crowd was filing out after supper, chatting excitedly about the beginnings of the new year. Professor Dumbledore had just announced the new Defence Against the Dark Arts to be Severus Snape! Finally, the icy Potions professor had gotten his coveted position, but would he face the jinx of the Dark Arts job? And the new Potions professor had been a rather walrus-looking creature named Professor Horace Slughorn. His cheeks were so huge and slouchy that they hung down and jiggled every time he gave a hearty laughter at the supper table. Everyone was wondering what kind of a professor would he be like? How would Potions be like without the intimidating frame of Severus Snape?

Draco Malfoy had been silent throughout the entire supper, his eyes gazing at nowhere in particular, although an observer might assume he was staring at the chicken in front of him. In fact, the entire Slytherin table was void of the usual cheer that came about at the start of the year, with many fearful eyes shooting glances at the blond boy. Suddenly he looked older than just any normal sixth-year student. His eyes were expressionless, but his eyebrows were set in a firm line, almost heavy – it was hard to tell whether he was raging inside, weary, or both. Pansy shot a look at him, then shifted her gaze back to her plate. Nobody dared to say anything within earshot, but exchanged questioning glances. Lucius Malfoy's death was still a mystery. Although it had been announced by the Ministry of Magic that he had tragically committed suicide, Narcissa Malfoy had burst out very vehemently that her husband had been murdered by Voldemort. She only restrained herself in time when Severus Snape had cast a Silencio charm on her, and insisted that no more reporters or any other "shifty little creatures" should interfere with the Malfoy affairs.

As he made his way back to the Slytherin dungeons with the other Slytherin students, Draco's mind kept wandering back and forth, left and right, in fact, he didn't exactly know what he was thinking about. His feet were just dragging themselves along, and the buzz around him made by students was only making his headache worsen exponentially. Then, with a swift motion, he fell out of step with the rest and turned right towards the tower annexe. He didn't know why he wanted to go there, he just felt like he should. Like everybody else, he had many questions, but he didn't know what to ask, and he didn't know who to ask.

The emotions in him were threatening to spill out, but Draco couldn't figure out what they were either. Frustrated at the complexity of thoughts in his mind, and the amalgamation of all kinds of emotions within him, he increased his pace, almost running towards the wall where the nearly-invisible tower door was. Few Hogwarts students knew where the entrance to the tower was, partly because it worked like the Room for Requirement – it only opened for those who really needed it, except that it actually had a visible outline of a door. The magic seemed to sense that Draco Malfoy was in desperate need of a quiet place, and slowly opened the door to let him go up the steps.

When he was facing the night sky, he felt a thrilling chill sweep through him, causing him to wrap his robes around him closer. He could see the Whomping Willow in the distance, weighed down heavily by the fall of thick snow, which was piling up on the tower ground as well, and on his robes and hair. The way the snow fell, seemed to remind him of the day he first saw snow fall in summer...

_"Mother! This is absolutely crazy, it's snowing in summer!"_

Draco burst into the living room of the Malfoy Manor, almost excitedly, but there was no one. Strange, he thought, she was here just a few minutes ago. There was a rather loud noise from above, which startled Draco, and he leapt to his feet to run upstairs. Along the way, he could gradually hear his mother's voice, which was almost hysterical, shouting, "No! No! NO!". The incessant sobs that came after almost shattered Draco's heart – his mother was the world to him, why was she so upset! Who made her...

He was face-to-face with a bizarre scenario: his mother was burying herself at Severus Snape's feet, shuddering with every sob, while the greasy-haired Potions professor stared stoically down at her. A ball of fury unleashed in Draco, as he flew forward to push his startled professor aside, yelling, "Don't you dare touch my mother! What did you do to her!"

"Draco!" Severus Snape finally got hold of his senses as the enraged boy was pushing him nearer the window. He managed to pull out his wand and with a flick, Draco was flung against the wall opposite, his countenance barely concealing his rage. "Get a grip on yourself!"

"WHY IS MY MOTHER CRYING?" demanded Draco, his eyes wild with rage and pain, as he flew to his mother's heaving side. "What the bloody hell did you..."

"Draco, your father is dead."

The air suddenly constricted, his throat!

Draco gasped.

"Draco, Draco!" His mother's and Snape's voices were intertwined, almost melding into the background of cries, wails, pleas...

"Please!" He could almost hear his father's pathetic voice, calling out.

"Draco, your father was murdered by the Dark Lord," It was Snape's voice again, but in the darkness. "He – failed to kill one of the Dark Lord's traitors, and even knows a secret about the Dark Lord that he shouldn't have got to know..."

"Please!" His father's once-authoritative voice now reduced to a pathetic whimper. "Please..."

Draco felt his breath freeze inside him, as he sank down into the snow, not caring that he was soaking his robes in the ice. The voices were revolving around in his head, his mother's cries, Snape's utterances, his father's pleas...all of it was hurting his head, hurting! Draco's hands automatically gripped his head, as he closed his eyes tightly, willing everything to change within one second. But he could still feel the cold of the ice, causing him to shiver and shudder. He wasn't sure whether it was really the cold, or the pain inside him.

His father was never the most kindly man on earth. In fact, Draco hated him to the core. He was always away, attending to the Dark Lord's matters, leaving Draco and Narcissa by themselves most of the time. Whenever he returned, he would expound on his expectations for Draco to be top in his classes, to be a faithful servant to the Dark Lord, to be a strong and powerful wizard. But now that he was dead, Draco found himself staring into the eyes of his father, imagining their stern gaze to be wiltered into a pleading one, and found his heart bleeding just to think of it. Despite hating him, Draco had to admit he respected his father for being a loyal man, and how he always thought of Draco first, ensuring that he would have an advantage in everything from young. He knew that it was because of his father's teachings, that he had blossomed into an intelligent and sharp wizard. It was because of Lucius Malfoy, that there was Draco Malfoy.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

As Draco made his way down the corridor, he whispered a charm to get rid of all the snow and water on his body, but he couldn't help shaking a little. He bristled at the thought of appearing weak, and tried to steady himself. It was infuriating enough that the whole world felt _sympathy_, what the hell! He had enough to deal with, what with a hysterical Narcissa and a whole bunch of nosy reporters, without having the whole school poking their noses into how he was feeling, what he was going to do – especially, if he was going to be a Death Eater.

Just when his thoughts were about to shift to that, they were instantly shattered with the sudden realisation that there was a stoic figure in front of him. He raised his cold gray eyes, and was surprised to see flaming red ones meeting them.

"Whitemayer, you're in my way." His trademark silky voice found its way through.

Corrinne's eyes flashed. "You bastard, you don't deserve to come back to Hogwarts."

Draco's eyes narrowed into slits. "Touchy."

The monster in Corrinne flared as she reached into her robes for her wand, but Draco Malfoy was faster. She glared at him venomously as his wand aimed at her forehead. "Like father, like son!" She spat.

It was Draco's turn to glare at Corrinne. "Whitemayer, what do you mean by that!"

"Your father is a murderer," whispered Corrinne, dangerously smirking, as she held onto her wand half-sticking out from her robes. "He deserved it."

Draco was about to utterly lose control when a stern, but familiar voice came ringing through. "Malfoy, what are you doing?" He turned his head to see who the offending intruder was, only to be met by a pair of hazel eyes, which stared defiantly at him. "I said, what are you doing!"

"Miss Know-It-All Granger, I don't need you here at this point in time." Draco sneered, turning his gaze from the bristling Hermione to a raging Corrinne. "I'm here to finish off this piece of..."

His wand flew off before he even had a chance to flick his wrist. Draco spun around, his face scarlet with rage, but was nearly knocked off by another flying wand, only to notice that Corrinne was disarmed, and the girl was flying towards Hermione Granger the next instant.

"You let me get him! LET ME GET HIM! Son of a ..."

Without knowing what he was really doing, Draco ran over and instinctively pulled Corrinne away so hard that the blond-haired girl was sent flying against the wall, and he held Hermione so hard by the arm that she gasped. His eyes were fixated on the dazed Corrinne, flashing madly. "Whitemayer, what the hell do you think you are..."

"And what the hell do you think YOU are doing!" demanded Hermione, shaking her arm off Draco's grip so vehemently that he was startled by her outburst. Draco was so stunned and overwhelmed by the whole commotion that he was struck dumb, and before he could think of any comeback, Corrinne Whitemayer was disappearing down the corridor, sobbing hard, and there was a dishevelled Hermione glaring daggers at him on his left.

"You might be a little more appreciative considering I didn't allow her to box you up into a piece of _Mudblood_," said Draco, mockingly, as he brushed down his robes, pretending not to see the fury that boiled up in Hermione's face. "I was just..."

He stopped short when he noticed that the fury in her face had boiled over, and was spilling out in tears. Thoroughly shocked by that reaction, he stared at her in disbelief. "What the..."

Hermione turned away. Her shaking, but defiant voice rang out once again.

"I...was just going to t-tell you, Mr Malfoy, y-you have patrol duty on the third floor corridor."

Then she started walking, before quickening her pace into a run and disappearing along a bend. Draco stared after her, a look of bewilderment and anger at the whole commotion. _Yeah, so I do have prefectorial duty. Who gives a damn?_

Then it occurred to him. _Oh hell, I've to do duty with HER!_

Surprisingly, he didn't feel smug or nauseous about it. He didn't really know what to feel. All he knew was that Corrinne Whitemayer had said some things that had hit really hard. _He deserved it._ And his eyes narrowed once again as he traced after the footsteps of Hermione Granger.


	3. Undecipherable Emotions

**Disclaimer:** Ooh what a little spitfire Corrinne Whitemayer is! So she's all mine, the rest of them all - will have to belong to J.K.R. (says glumly)

* * *

When Draco reached the third floor corridor, he saw Hermione Granger admonishing a couple of first-years for being out late at night at the other end. Once she was done, the two Slytherin students spun around quickly and walked in the direction of Draco hastily. They saw him, but immediately bent down their heads as they approached, whispering furtively. Draco's eyes narrowed into slits, feeling the familiar anger rise up in him, just like when he first stepped onto Platform 9 ¾ and the whole world looked at him like he was going to collapse and die right in front of their eyes. Just as they brushed past him, he heard one of them mutter, "One of these days I will hex that Mudblood into oblivion! Poking her nose into..."

Draco was not only surprised that they had not been whispering about him, he was also surprised that he felt a twinge of inexplicable -– _annoyance_, when they had mentioned the word _Mudblood_, which made him curl his lip rather disgustedly. _Why am I even feeling annoyed at this? I've been calling Granger a Mudblood since the very day that bushy-haired know-it-all entered the school grounds._ But something in him stirred - he realised that for every time he had called her that, he had faced a look of rage, horror, frustration, perhaps even attempted nonchalance. Never had he seen tears spring to her eyes and she was almost... Draco realised that it was the first time he had ever seen Hermione Granger, teacher's pet, one-third of the Golden Trio, insufferable know-it-all - with the look of _defeat_.

It bothered him quite a lot, even though he didn't really understand why he should even bother in the first place, as he strode towards Hermione, who was casting a stern gaze all around her. Her eyes landed upon the approaching figure of Draco Malfoy, and she turned abruptly.

"You're late, Mr Malfoy. I wonder if I should report this to Professor McGonagall."

"Go ahead, miss goody-two-shoes, I couldn't wait." Draco sneered, his lips remaining in a curled position. "You don't even have to be civil by addressing me so politely, because I'm perfectly used to Gryffindors calling me..." He leant close to Hermione's back. "_A son of a bitch!_"

Hermione jumped at his closeness, and spun around, causing Draco to retreat a little, the smirk still plastered on his face. "Don't push things, Malfoy." She glared at him, her eyes shining -– not with tears any more, but with something else equally intense and piercing. "And you should know only too well why Corrinne is so mad at you, so stop adding fuel to the fire!"

The wheels in Draco's mind spun, and it dawned upon him the reason for Corrinne Whitemayer's insane attempt to attack him earlier on. The image of Lucius Malfoy with a hard look on his face floated before him. "You can tell that ticking time bomb that it's just her parents' pathetic fate that landed them in front of my father." His eyes flashed. "And you don't blame my father for it!"

Hermione couldn't believe her ears. "So you say your father didn't have a choice? Oh, so now he can just cast the Cruciatus curse on _anybody_? And pray, tell me, what offence did Corrinne's parents do, huh? Did they offend that oh-so-mighty Dark Lord of yours, so he threw them to that mindless puppet that is your father..."

She realised that she had gone too far when she saw Draco's face contort into an expression of seething rage. His hand was dangerously near the wand partially concealed by his robes.

"I don't know what they did," he released his words very slowly, in between puffs of air that made him seem as if he was choking. "But my father –- is not –- _a bloody mindless puppet_!"

Hermione took a deep breath and swallowed hard.

"Look, Malfoy," she began, and she could see his eyes flash once more, the curled lip almost -– _trembling_. She took another deep breath.

"If we're going to be doing patrols together this summer, I think we need to get this clear. I don't mean to denigrate your father, and at the same time, I don't wish that you provoke Corrinne any further, or we'd have another repeat of..."

"Shut up, Granger," hissed Draco, in a dangerous, silky voice, his fingers still on his wand. "I don't need any, any of your bloody _sympathy_! Because as a Mudblood -" Hermione winced once again at the emphasis he placed on the derogatory term. "-you really are in no position to comment on my family matters!" The expression on his face was undecipherable. "And if that crazy Whitemayer wants to get her hands on me again, I don't think I can do much except to get that insane woman off me." The smirk returned to his face. "Or perhaps, Miss Granger could come along again to save _me_..."

Hermione felt the tears prick her eyes again in a surge of anger, but she swallowed hard again, remembering Harry's words over and over again. "You won't be so lucky next time, Malfoy, but -– but I can at least try to ensure that Corrinne's anger doesn't get overboard!"

Draco's look was now a mix of disbelief and anger. "Stop _making concessions_, you filthy...!" He had to restrain himself from saying the word another time, because he really hated the look on Hermione's face at this point in time when he said it.

"I'm not making concessions, Malfoy, I'm just trying to be civil!"

Then suddenly, the expressionless look came back like a curtain drawing across his face, covering up all the emotions that made him seem so vulnerable, that was making her _pity, damn it, pity_ him, and he looked away so that Hermione could not see a spasm of pain cross his face. Then when he looked back at Hermione, the girl was staring back at him, so hard that it made him uncomfortable and angry once again. But he kept the expressionless look, the stony gaze in his eyes, as he turned his back on her and walked down the length of the corridor.

Hermione stared after him, not knowing what to do, say, or feel. She noticed his sides were still heaving, even after the emotions had seemed to suddenly disperse from his face, leaving a cold, hard, and impassioned countenance in its wake. The same look that he had plastered on his face ever since he was spotted at the Hogwarts platform, when everybody was furtively stealing glances at him and wondering what would become of Draco Malfoy. The way he said _Mudblood_ was painful; she never felt so much pain - usually she felt indignation, hurt and anger; this time the pain was just coursing through her veins, setting every nerve in her on fire, there was just so much emotions concentrated in that one word, the way he had said it.

She turned her eyes to the staircases, but her mind was not on catching any sneaky students stealing out at night anymore. She could not tell whether Draco was angry, hurt, disgusted, arrogant, or everything rolled into one. She realised she still didn't know if he was going to join the ranks of Death-Eaters, or, maybe he already had. Hermione turned to cast a glance at the blond mop with his flowing black robes in the distance, but he was almost like a statue facing the wall, unmoving. _Stone cold_, she thought, _in looks, in body, in heart_.

Then she noticed, even from afar, his right fist.

Shaking.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Corrinne Whitemayer tried to tackle you for disarming her?" Ron's eyes bulged out once again. "Merlin, I wish I had been there, this sounds just as exciting as Malfoy trying to wrestle that Snitch out of your hands last season, mate!"

The three friends were sitting on the steps leading out to the snowy-white courtyard, their robes wrapped firmly around them. It was far too early in the morning for any stray figures to be walking around, so Hermione had figured it would be the best time to report her findings.

Harry looked half-amused and half-worried as he kept his gaze on Hermione. "So how did Malfoy respond to that?"

Hermione was about to go on about Malfoy's rage at the third floor corridor, when Harry's question hit upon something that had surprised her, but had slipped her mind completely. "Oh," she mused, eyebrows raised. "Erm..."

Both boys didn't notice the flush that was spreading up the side of her neck as they looked at her face enquiringly.

"He –- he pulled Corrinne off me."

Hermione didn't even know why she was feeling a surge of heat rising up her neck as she said it. Harry and Ron didn't seem to find that very interesting, however, with Harry continuing, "And then?"

Hermione took a deep breath. She decided to leave out the part about Draco shouting at Corrinne. "And then Corrinne ran away and Malfoy called me a Mudblood." She tried to stop herself from rolling her eyes as the two boys in front of her cursed under their breaths. "Yeah, and then we had patrol duty where I quite stupidly insulted his father for being a mindless puppet of... Voldemort."

Harry cocked his eyebrow at Hermione, who returned his questioning gaze with an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, I was just so _mad_! He was just being so infuriating, like he wasn't going to stop inciting Corrinne to flare up and do stupid things! And he got really worked up about it, and looked like he wanted to hex me..."

"That ferret...!" Ron was about to leap out of his seat when Harry gently pushed him back into it again. "Go on, Hermione."

"Apparently he thinks I'm trying to sympathise with him and all, but I did tell him I was just trying to be civil," said Hermione and she sighed. "But honestly, he _really_ tests my patience, I really can't stand it when he's standing there calling me rude names and being so cocky... argh! I don't really care that his father is dead you know, it's probably a service to the wizarding world!"

Harry managed a smile. "I never knew you to be so vindictive, Hermione." Then his look faltered a little. "I'm sorry, maybe I shouldn't have..."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Mate, you've already landed her there. Stop apologising would you, it's just making her feel worse."

Hermione placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "It's not about feeling bad, Harry, I really want to help you. Besides, you're not the one who landed me in prefect duty with that..." She tried to refrain from name calling herself. "But I must say, he's merely just putting up a front most of the time. It's just that I can't really tell whether he's angry, or miserable, or just trying to annoy the hell out of everyone that crosses his path or something."

"How about a fourth option?" Ron suggested with an ill-concealed snort. "All of the above?"

"That's what I think, actually." Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Oh yes, Harry," she turned her attention to the bespectacled boy, "have you managed to see Professor Dumbledore?"

Harry sighed, and Hermione and Ron exchanged looks of surprise. "What's up, Harry?"

"He had to attend to something," muttered Harry, glumly, sinking further into his seat. "Why's he always like that -– when I want to see him about something, he's got to leave to do other things!"

Ron reached out to pat his best friend sympathetically.

"He did say something about talking to Professor McGonagall though," said Harry, looking at Ron, and then Hermione. "He said she'd probably give a clearer account of the events that happened to Lucius Malfoy."

"What are we waiting for?" asked Hermione, feeling the familiar bubble of excitement rise in her.

"But he said -– to do it at eleven o'clock..." Harry's eyebrows suddenly knotted together. "Hey, this is silly of me, I kept thinking eleven in the morning, but I just remembered Professor McGonagall has class with the sixth-year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs during that time, he can't possibly want us to charge in, right?"

"Then eleven o'clock _at night_?" asked Ron, in disbelief. "But that's after bedtime hours!"

"I suppose if Professor Dumbledore said so, we're probably exempt from the school rules," said Hermione, with such firmness that the two boys shot her surprised looks. "Anyway, this really concerns a grave matter -– if we don't find things out soon enough, we're plunging the school into danger with us, because whether Draco Malfoy wants it or not, Voldemort's going to approach him somehow - whether to recruit, or even –-" She shuddered at the thought. "_Kill_ him. And... and surely before Malfoy is out of sight, Voldemort will find some way into Hogwarts through him, and to get at..." She cast a glance at Harry, remembering Ginny's white face. "You."

Harry remained silent. Ron mumbled something incomprehensible under his breath.

"So, are we going to do it?"

Her exasperated voice caused Harry and Ron to exchange looks, then Harry looked back at Hermione with a look mixed with amusement, weariness and pain.

"Aye, aye, captain."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The buzz at the breakfast table failed to distract Draco Malfoy from his thoughts. As he reached for the jam and toast, he could see the images of a smirking Corrinne Whitemayer as she uttered the words _like father, like son_, the anger that was engulfing his whole body, and then suddenly the wands were out of their hands, and Whitemayer was charging towards Hermione Granger like a raging matador, and the tears in Granger's eyes...

"Draco!"

The sharpness of the voice made him turn to his left, and saw him staring into the icy blue eyes of Pansy Parkinson, who snatched the spreading knife from his hands. "What in the world are you doing to your toast!"

Draco stared back at his jam-covered fingers, and the white surface of the toast. Then he stuffed the toast into his mouth, complete with fingers, not saying a word to Pansy, who put down his knife quietly. He could feel the cold of her eyes penetrate into his back, but he chose not to return her gaze. He knew that because of their families' close relations, she knew more than any other student what really happened, and she wasn't telling anybody about it. Yet, he didn't feel any hint of gratitude towards her, and in fact, felt uncomfortable with her around.

Pansy was staring at Draco's back. She knew Draco wouldn't bother to be grateful to her for keeping the mystery of his father's death a secret, nor would he be grateful if she tried to make things better. She knew better than to interfere with Draco's emotions, yet at the same time, she felt worried. If what her father wrote in his most recent letter to her was accurate, then...

Her eyes travelled to his left forearm.

Draco pushed away from the table abruptly, got up and left the hall, leaving Pansy to continue staring after him.

He walked down the empty corridor. Images and sounds were exploding all around him, engulfing him!

He walked and walked, increasing his pace with every step.

He wanted to get away from all that noise. All that shouting. All that running about! All that wand-wielding! All that...!

He turned sharply at a bend in a dim-lit corner and sank down by the wall. He was panting. He hadn't realised he had been running. He felt dishevelled. He could feel the beads of perspiration trickle down the sides of his face, making him shudder with the cold wind blowing by.

_I am Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy!_

The words were reverberating in his head; he was panting even harder, trying to catch his breath.

_Please!_ His father's imaginary voice rang out once again, the pathetic whimper.

He heard his voice ring out again, fierce and defiant. _I am Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy!_

I am Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy, and I pledge myself to the service of the Dark Lord with the undertaking of my late father's responsibility as your humble servant. I will fulfil my duties to the best of my abilities, and I will serve the Dark Lord with unwavering loyalty, and -– a stone cold heart.

A stone cold heart.

He could still feel his heart thumping like mad.

Draco, still breathing heavily, rolled his head to the left, and reached out to scrunch his left robe sleeve up. Slowly, slowly, his eyes darted around to look for any wandering ghost, picture figure, student or staff, slowly, slowly. Then his fingers hit something that seemed to have a strong magnetic force drawing them towards it. He winced a little, then his eyes connected with the huge swirling black mass on his forearm, which gradually rearranged itself to form a black skull with a snake coiling itself menacingly around it. It glowed for an instant, then it dispersed into the black mass again, as Draco's fingers pulled down the robe sleeve.

He leant his head against the wall, trying to steady his breath.

_He's come for you? He's come?_ His mother's hysterical voice rang through his head. _Draco, please, no!_

He closed his eyes.

_Please!_

His eyes flew open.

Draco Malfoy stood up, roughly wiped the back of his hand against the sides of his face, brushed down his robes, smoothed out his tie and the tufts of his silver-blond hair, then turned sharply into the main corridor, walking in the direction of the Slytherin common room, with the same swagger that everyone had come to associate him with ever since his first year at Hogwarts, and the same smirk that he wore on the edge of his lips.


	4. Stories of the Past

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter & Co. still belong to J.K.R., otherwise it's not like her to be updating in a span of a few days.

**A/N:** Here's a really long chapter for now, to help to clear up some of the question marks littered about in the previous few chapters. No Draco-Hermione interaction this time round, sorry, but I promise better in later chapters! For now, here's a greater insight to the new character Corrinne.

* * *

Argus Filch carried his flickering lantern up to his ear, illuminating his wrinkled features and crooked scowl with his high forehead glimmering with oil with a few strands of straggly greasy hair hanging down. With a gleaming-eyed Mrs Norris curled up in his arm, he shuffled along the corridors, his bulging eyes scanning all corners for any delinquent students. It was ten-thirty, and the prefects had also left their duty posts to go to bed. Mrs Norris arched lazily, cast a glance down a corridor unblinkingly for a while, before she gave an uncharacteristic purr and nuzzled against Filch as he made his way towards the staircase.

"That cat is scary," muttered Ron, as the trio peeked out from behind the pillars, securely wrapped in Harry's Invisible Cloak. "I swear she saw us!"

"If she did, she'd have yowled down the whole place, Ronald," said Hermione, in her sagely voice. Then she quickly scanned the area. "Okay, coast is clear, let's get going!"

They scurried across the corridor, trying not to step too hard in case Filch heard them. Hermione kept an eye on the shuffling caretaker, who was muttering something bad-temperately to himself as he climbed the moving staircases, and soon, they were out of his view, and right in front of Professor McGonagall's office.

Harry had stopped first, so the other two nearly bumped into him with his abrupt stop. They stood staring at the big door in front of them.

"Erm... Harry, you should knock."

Harry took a deep breath, then raised his knuckles to softly rap on the door three times.

There was a rather worried voice emanating from within. "Come in!"

Harry pushed open the door, and once they saw Professor McGonagall with a surprised look etched on her face at the absence of her visitor, Hermione pulled off the cloak and shut the door behind her.

Staring at the sudden appearance of the trio in front of her, Professor McGonagall's stunned face morphed into a frown when she noticed that none of them looked particularly like they were in an emergency.

"What are the three of you doing by sneaking out at this time? You'd better have a good explanation!" With that, she continued to tidy up her desk with her wand, flicking it all around as her books and papers flew from left to right, piling up in neat stacks on either side.

Hermione nudged Harry, so he coughed and pushed up his spectacles nervously. "Well, Professor, we wanted to know – what really happened to Lucius Malfoy."

There was a thud, and the book that Professor McGonagall was levitating fell flat on the floor. Her eyes were wide open. "Mr Potter, I don't really think..."

"We were sent by Professor Dumbledore." Harry hastened to explain. "He said – to find you at this time, so we figured..." He tried not to look embarrassed. "That it wasn't really against the school rules..."

Minerva McGonagall stared hard at Harry, then at an eager-looking Hermione and a thoughtful-looking Ron, then sighed as she stepped away from her desk and motioned the three of them to the side, where she conjured up four soft looking chairs. The trio fell into their seats, silent, as Professor McGonagall smoothed out her robes while she sat. Finally, she looked up at them, with a very serious look on her face that bordered on annoyance.

"I really shouldn't be letting you know, but since the Headmaster has wished for me to do so, then I shall. I don't really know why he wants you three to be in the know when half the wizarding world are still asking questions. I am trusting that – he did really tell you that, Mr Potter." She narrowed her eyes at Harry, who nodded vehemently. "I also trust that you three will not let this out to the others." She received three affirming nods. "Well then, I'm sure you know that Lucius Malfoy was murdered by You-Know-Who..."

She sighed, and shifted her gaze away from her students to the fireplace. "You-Know-Who had sent Lucius Malfoy on a very important mission, which according to what Professor Dumbledore had gathered, was to visit a former Death Eater to obtain something from him that You-Know-Who wanted. Of course, after obtaining it, this former Death Eater was to be silenced. However Lucius Malfoy seemed to have let the man slip through his fingers after obtaining this item, which I really have no idea what it is." Professor McGonagall eyed the questioning look of the three students, with Harry's look betraying a hint of disappointment thereafter.

"This man escaped to one of the former Soviet Union states. As Malfoy was desperate not to fail You-Know-Who, so he gave chase and had created an elaborate set-up to capture the man. Unfortunately, when he did reach there, for some extraordinary reason, he _voluntarily_ let the man go, and when You-Know-Who found out that this man had escaped twice because of Malfoy, and apparently because this man had told Malfoy a secret that You-Know-Who wanted the man to bring to his grave..."

"Lucius Malfoy was now a threat to Voldemort," Hermione finished, as Professor McGonagall cringed at her outright use of the name. "This is altogether queer; first there is a man who was formerly a Death-Eater. Professor, how can Vol – I mean, You-Know-Who let anybody become a _former_ Death-Eater? Either you are currently one, or – you will cease to exist."

"Yes, Miss Granger, but this man is different," said Professor McGonagall, her gaze shifting back to the fireplace. "He saved You-Know-Who's life before."

All three raised their eyebrows. "So he's a benefactor?" Harry asked.

"You could say so, Mr Potter," replied Professor McGonagall. "Not once, but twice. I'm not very sure about the first time, but I know when You-Know-Who was severely weakened after attempting to possess you last year at the Ministry of Magic." She looked back at Harry, who had paled. "This man had managed to Heal him with the tremendous powers that he had accumulated; if he did not have that amount of strength, You-Know-Who might have not been able to pull through much, which I'm sorry to know."

Harry clenched his fists, and Ron and Hermione instinctively covered them with their palms, hoping to ease the tension in there.

"Who is he?" asked Ron.

"I'm afraid I don't know, Mr Weasley," replied Professor McGonagall wearily, her eyebrows knotting together. "No one knows who this man is, apart from that he is a Healer and lived a life as a hermit beforehand. Surely he must have attended Hogwarts to be able to qualify as a Healer, and St. Mungo's must have his records, but we are still doing our investigations as it is likely that he has changed his identity. "So far we've only gathered this because of –" She cleared her throat. "Professor Dumbledore."

Hermione wondered how come Professor Dumbledore knew so much, but Professor McGonagall carried on, interrupting her train of thought. "The reason why this Healer left the Death Eaters is quite unknown, but apparently it was a decision made by the Healer himself and approved by You-Know-Who."

Harry and Ron mused over this, as Hermione moved on to her next thought before she lost it completely. "And so, besides that, there's this whole issue about how You-Know-Who wants to get something from this Healer, and eventually eliminate him when all this while, he's been letting him go. Then how Malfoy allowed him to escape twice, especially voluntarily for the second time. And the secret that You-Know-Who couldn't let anyone know. This is really really queer!"

"Is it true that Draco Malfoy will become a Death Eater?" interrupted Ron. Hermione had been about to shoot him a death glare for changing the topic, when she realised what topic he had shifted to, and the image of a silvery-blond haired figure floated into mind. Earlier on during patrol, he had not said a word – in fact, his mind seemed to have wandered elsewhere, and Hermione felt best not to provoke him. They had spent the entire patrol in silence, with Malfoy occasionally sending a chillingly angry glare at one or two students who were supposed to be back in bed, waving his wand carelessly to signal the taking away of points. He had not been overboard as he used to be back when he was in Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad. The smirk and swagger still remained, but it seemed that in the place of the immature, arrogant and spiteful Malfoy, there was a rather darker version with an unfathomable pool of emotions.

Professor McGonagall had a pained look on her face. "Mr Weasley, I don't really know how to answer that question..." She eyed Harry, and immediately thought of Professor Dumbledore telling the boy gently to go look for her for answers, and sighed, trying hard not to look exasperated. "Well, it is tradition that should a Death Eater be removed because of disloyalty, if he has children, the eldest child, when he or she comes of age, must take over the parent's position and serve You-Know-Who with loyalty to pay back for the parent's sin."

Hermione sighed inwardly. She was hoping that what she had read in the books was merely a myth. Turns out that was unlikely.

"But Malfoy is not..." Ron began.

"The coming-of-age for the Death Eaters," said Professor McGonagall, gently, "is sixteen."

Harry, Ron and Hermione kept silent, their bodies shuddering a little. Draco Malfoy had already turned sixteen before the sixth year at Hogwarts had begun.

"How can Hogwarts let that happen?" whispered Hermione, finally. "How can Professor Dumbledore let a Death Eater stay within this walls?"

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips. "That isn't a matter I should comment upon, really. Miss Granger, please do not worry unduly, the Headmaster and all of his staff will ensure the safety of the students at Hogwarts – it comes first and foremost, above all." Her voice was laced with a trembling edge, Hermione had not missed that. "We believe that – we do have sufficient precautions in place, and we will make sure that any student involved with the Dark Arts in the wrong way," she cleared her throat once again, "will be dealt with."

Harry wanted to open his mouth, but Professor McGonagall shook her head. "It is late, and I have told you enough. Please return back to bed, with that cloak securely in place, and make sure that Filch doesn't see you, or I'll have a lot of paperwork to deal with tomorrow." She managed a smile at them. "Now go."

There was no use arguing with that firm tone of Professor McGonagall's, and Harry begrudgingly swung the cloak over the three of them as they left the office.

On their way back, Harry was muttering something under his breath, and Ron asked what he was talking about. Harry raised his eyes to meet Ron's, then Hermione's, and sighed.

"This is going to be a hell of a year."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Corrinne Whitemayer sat in front of the dormitory window, staring outside as the white blanket of snow below was illuminated by small yellow lights from the school grounds. She felt the tears starting in her eyes as her mind wandered, but she blinked them back fiercely. She had come to Hogwarts in order to be equipped as a brilliant witch, in order to avenge her parents. She had been enrolled at Hogwarts only the year before because her grandaunt refused to send her to the school that had led to her parents near-deaths – she should stay out of magic! But the young Corrinne had magic in her blood; she was defiant and her grandaunt eventually relented to let her enter. Because she entered late and was far behind everybody in terms of studies and skills, the various professors had been instructed by Professor Dumbledore to give her private lessons. He knew, when he saw the fierce look on the girl's face when she had stepped into his office, that this was a girl not only with a history, but also with a character. This was a girl destined for great things.

Of course, Corrinne had imagined him thinking that way, and she smirked to herself bitterly. _Thinking so highly of yourself huh, Corrinne?_ She pulled her knees to her chin and hugged them tightly. So far, she had done her best, only falling short of Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy! The thought of the sneer on his face made Corrinne's face harden. It was bad enough not being able to subdue the son of her enemy in grades, having to restrain herself from hexing him in public to draw Lucius Malfoy out, but worse enough to know that from being the most snarky little thing in Hogwarts, he had become a public figure of sympathy because – _Lucius Malfoy was dead!_ Lucius Malfoy! Corrinne seethed with rage, standing up abruptly and heading towards the door, pulling it open, allowing a low light to flood into the bedroom for an instant. She didn't notice that one of the beds in the room was empty before she shut herself out from the darkness, and was plunged into the soft lights of the common room, which were still glowing as she made her way down the stairs to the chairs in front of the empty fireplace.

As she sank into one of the big armchairs, she could see her parents' faces floating in front of her, her father's stern but yet kindly face, her mother's dancing dimples and lovely smile, with her golden tresses flying in front of her face. Corrinne touched her own blonde hair, smiling absent-mindedly. Then her smile vanished, as she remembered opening the door to the study room one day, ready to burst out in happiness to her parents that spring had arrived, only to see the straggly white-blond hair of Lucius Malfoy, with his gloved hand extending a wand towards her parents. Her parents, who were lying unconscious against the bed frame, their eyes rolling upwards, with froth bubbling out of their lips.

The young Corrinne had screamed in terror, flung herself upon her parents, and with tears streaming down her cheeks, she faced Lucius Malfoy with her eyes wide with rage and fear, but the man had disappeared after that millisecond she had turned to face him. All of a sudden, there were so many people who appeared, pushing Corrinne aside, albeit gently. She had scrambled to get a hold on her parents, but the crowd had vanished just as quickly as they had arrived, together with her parents. One man with a long beard had remained, watching Corrinne shake with horror and despair, as she clambered towards him, tugging at his robes and pleading to see her parents.

The next thing Corrinne knew, she was being shoved through a long and winding tunnel, her whole body compressed and being sucked through like a vacuum cleaner was pulling at her. When she opened her eyes again, she was in a hospital, but oh what a strange hospital it was! There were people with witch-like hats, dressed in the formal robes that the man, who was holding her hand, was wearing. There were things flying about as well, but Corrinne paid little attention, as she followed the man, her eyes blurring with hot tears and her heart laden with anguish. She was eventually brought to a room, but told to stand still and not move towards her parents.

She watched as a group of what looked like doctors and nurses to her, descended upon the shaking figures of her parents, there were many things flying about, Corrinne thought she saw wands! But when they eventually dispersed, she saw the contorted faces of her parents, her father laughing insanely, and her mother's beautiful smile completely wiped off, leaving a crooked and sad grin that was plastered lopsided on her face. Corrinne was stunned; she gripped the robes of the man beside her so tightly, and was about to rush ahead when he pulled her out of the room.

"Please, let me be with them! I beg you, I beg you!" the cries of the young Corrinne reverberated around, attracting stares from all sides. Immediately, the man had whipped out his wand, and all of a sudden, Corrinne was shouting silently, her eyes huge with complete shock and anger at being rendered mute.

"I'm sorry, Corrinne," whispered the man, his eyes kindly, wise and patient, so Corrinne closed her mouth, amazed that he knew her name. "Your father and mother have been cursed by a very very evil man. They were a threat to him and his master, so they had to be killed, but your parents are lucky to have survived." He was treating her like an adult, and Corrinne liked it, but she was too anguished to react. "Your parents will never be the same again, Corrinne, you must understand this." He smiled sadly at her. "I know your grandaunt will never let you learn magic again..." and as soon as he lifted the Silencing Charm, little Corrinne burst out angrily at this point in time. "I will learn! I WILL GO TO SCHOOL! I want to learn magic so that – " Her peaked face crumpled. The man put a hand on her shoulder...

The next time Corrinne saw those kindly eyes was when she was in that man's office, staring at him with a unprecedented feeling of trepidation and awe. He had leaned forward over his desk, his eyes twinkling and smiling, "I'm very glad your grandaunt decided to let you to come, Corrinne, very glad. Welcome, my dear, welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

Corrinne stared at the empty fireplace, which suddenly had small flames licking up at the centre, before bursting into a merry crackle. She spun around, only to see a familiar figure walking down from the other staircase – the one leading to the boys' dormitory, while stuffing his wand back into his robes.

"Neville?"

He made his way down to the armchair opposite Corrinne, sitting down.

"I know how it feels."

Corrinne looked at him in surprise.

Neville raised his head, his eyes meeting her reddish ones. "My parents were Cruciated too. By a Death Eater."

Corrinne was genuinely surprised. She knew very little about the backgrounds of her other wizarding friends, not only because she was new, but because the girls she hung out with usually talked about frivolous, happy things, not the melancholic histories of their classmates. Yes, they did gossip about students of other houses, but definitely not their own house. She knew, however, that almost everybody else knew about her background, especially since she had entered late.

"Who?" she whispered.

"Bellatrix Lestrange," he mumbled, leaning back into the armchair. "And I met her last year when I was fighting alongside Harry at the Ministry of Magic. She killed Sirius, Harry's godfather. I tried to hex her, but she skipped aside. And every night I dream of me being able to do it, to kill her, to avenge my parents." Neville looked at Corrinne again. "They're at St. Mungo's too. I saw your parents when I went to visit my parents."

"I'm sorry," whispered Corrinne. "I hardly look around when I'm there. I just..."

Neville managed a smile. "It's okay."

They remained silent for a while, before Neville eventually spoke up again.

"I know how it feels. It's just –" He hesitated as Corrinne's glittering red eyes focused on him. "Look, I'm not trying to pity Malfoy, I can't do that, he's been absolutely revolting the past few years. Just because he's not hexing some small kid upside down or royally screwing up our house, doesn't mean he won't do it later, or that he's some angel all of a sudden." Neville could feel Corrinne relax a little. "All I want to say is that you need to get a grip. I heard about your outburst yesterday from Ginny, and Harry and Ron were talking about you flying at Malfoy and I overheard them..."

"Hermione Granger..." muttered Corrinne, her eyes flashing.

"It's not Hermione's fault, they're her best mates," protested Neville, then sighed. "But you really need to try to control yourself. The more you fly out at people, the more obvious it is. Lucius Malfoy is dead now, he's the one who killed your parents, not Draco Malfoy."

"But if Malfoy senior is dead, guess who takes over his place?" whispered Corrinne. "I know the rules of the Death Eaters. I've read up extensively on them. And then what are the odds Draco Malfoy won't follow in his father's footsteps?" _Like father, like son._

Neville shrugged. "We don't know. We've just got to be prepared. We keep an eye on him, that's for sure. It's just..." He looked at Corrinne again, her red eyes softening a little. "Please, you need to simmer down. If you're flying out at him every now and then, you'll only get yourself into trouble, especially since it looks like everyone's sympathising with him."

Corrinne had never heard the dull and bumbling Neville Longbottom speak so much, and somehow, she felt touched. She felt her heart lurch a little, then she mumbled a 'goodnight' before getting up and disappearing back to her dormitory, leaving Neville to stare sadly at the crackling fire.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"FOCUS!" roared Professor Snape, as he wielded his wand menacingly. "My goodness, Draco, why are you just as terrible as Potter at this?"

"Don't. Compare. Me. To. POTTER!" raged Draco, as he took a step forward with his wand outstretched, but before he could shout, he was plunged into a whirling mass of thoughts, memories... his father, wielding the wand in the same way Snape did, causing the young Draco to writhe in pain... then picking him up again and putting a hand on the blond mess, whispering, "Son, I do this all for you. I'm sorry..." and then muttering a healing charm... his mother, smiling and laughing... himself, staring at the countless hooded men, his left sleeve rolled up to the top, in front of him...

"ARRGHHHH!" screamed Draco, and he fell backwards. "_PROTEGO!_"

Snape blocked it off with ease, having been prepared that Draco would fire a Shield Charm, just as Harry Potter had in his fifth year. He walked forward to the heaving Draco, whose eyes were dazed and almost wild, his blond hair and black robes in complete disarray.

"Draco, you know why you have to do this," said Snape, in a low voice. "It's for your parents."

Draco winced, his left forearm throbbing. "I'm... tired..."

"Get up!" ordered Snape, with a sneer on his face, though he felt more despair than anger for the boy in front of him. "If you don't get this done properly, you're going to fail miserably. And you know the Dark Lord doesn't spare..."

Draco's eyes narrowed and he braced himself to stand as he slowly picked up his wand.

It was going to be a long night.


	5. Secrets Abound

**Disclaimer:** I feel lazy to think up of something witty, so all I can say that is J. is brilliant, and she gets the luxury to write in a hotel room and sign off on a statue bust. I'm just - you know, writing, here...

* * *

Hermione got out of bed extremely early, making it down to the common room where there was nobody. She flicked her wand absent-mindedly, not noticing that there was still wisps of smoke curling out of the fireplace when the flames came licking upwards again, warming up the freezing room. She had not slept much, and when she eventually did, she woke up not too long after, and couldn't get herself to stay in bed any longer. In her mind, what Professor McGonagall had said was whirling around, making her feel uneasy and puzzled.

She was uneasy about having to see Draco Malfoy again during patrol, and wondered how to even be friends with him, given the way he was mocking her and glaring at her and throwing her dead looks. She felt an embarrassed flush creep up her neck as she remembered how the tears were flowing fast and furiously down her face when she heard him insult her that night Corrinne Whitemayer tried to attack her. He was so infuriating! She was trying her best to diffuse the situation and in a way, saved him from being hexed into oblivion by Corrinne.

And then suddenly he was all heroic and saved her in return from Corrinne's wild attack! Hermione raised her eyebrows as she recalled the scene. The way he gripped her arm as he pulled Corrinne off her had been so ferocious she had to wrangle her arm out of his grasp – but, it felt...

Then he had called her a _Mudblood_. After she was starting to wonder if his father's death had actually instilled some basic morals in him. It totally tore her apart for some reason; she just felt like – everything was lost. That subtle build-up to finding a bit of decency in Draco Malfoy had just disappeared into thin air with that one word. That hope to trying to make her task easier, perhaps. Or maybe it was just a hope that Draco Malfoy would stop being such a freak. _Oh I don't know!_ She breathed hard. And the way he looked – rather – horrified, when she had started to tear...

Sighing, Hermione leant back in an armchair. Wrenching her thoughts away from the look on Draco Malfoy's face, she tried to think back to what happened last night again. What made her puzzled was why Professor Dumbledore was willing to let Draco Malfoy remain in the school grounds, and why he was not around in the dead of the night, asking Professor McGonagall to explain it to them at that time instead! She bit her lip. That was certainly odd.

"Hermione?"

She got up and saw Harry walking down, dragging along a half-asleep Ron, ginger hair all tousled. Hermione couldn't resist grinning. "Breakfast?"

"Yeah sure, and some water to wake him up, how about that?"

Upon seeing Hermione raise her wand with a wicked grin through his half-closed eyes, Ron immediately opened them and whipped out his wand in reaction. "Don't you dare!" he warned.

Hermione tucked her wand back into her robes. "That did the job."

Harry grinned back at her, while Ron made a growling noise.

The trio made their way to the Great Hall, making small talk to distract themselves from the night before. None of them really felt like discussing it, it seemed. However, the distraction couldn't last for long. Just before they turned the corner towards the Great Hall, a familiar tuft of silver-blond appeared, and Hermione gasped.

Draco Malfoy was walking towards them with his usual gang, Pansy Parkinson, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, minus Blaise Zabini, who had nursed a severe flu and cough on the day he arrived at the Hogwarts station, and was whisked away (rather reluctantly) into quarantine, and had remained at the Hospital Wing since then. Still, the sight of Draco Malfoy alone made Harry, Ron and Hermione's hearts thump a beat faster, and Harry tried not to shoot a glare at Draco.

As they passed by, they heard a silky voice mutter, "Didn't sleep well, Potter? Too many sweet dreams with... the Dark Lord?"

Harry spun around, only remaining at his spot because Ron and Hermione had gripped his robes and were struggling to restrain him as his green eyes sparkled angrily. His lips were trembling, as though afraid that if he opened them, the wrong words would spill out.

"What's wrong, Potter? Lost your tongue?" Draco smirked, looking over his shoulder. Then he stopped walking, turned around, his sneer dripping off the edge of his lips. The others had stopped walking as well, Crabbe and Goyle trying to imitate Draco's curled lip in futility, while Pansy merely had an impatient look on her face. "Or perhaps, you're still stuck speaking Parseltongue in your dreams?"

"Malfoy!" warned Hermione, her face pale as her nails bit into Harry's shoulder. Harry made a rather explosive-sounding noise.

"I thought you could do better, Granger, than just giving me that puppy-eyed look, are you in love with me?" said Draco, mockingly, with his arms folded. Hermione's eyes flashed, but he seemed to enjoy it even more, smirking fiercely. "Silence means consent you know? But – I don't think I go for – _Mudbloods_."

Harry nearly lost control and broke out of Ron's and Hermione's grip, but Hermione was quicker and nicked the tip of his collar, jerking Harry back. She had spun around to grab Ron's hand as well, because he looked like he was about to charge at Draco himself. Then, she dragged the two kicking boys down the corridor to the Great Hall. Harry choked, and Ron grew purple, but she ignored them, and tried to ignore the mocking laughter of Draco Malfoy, and his two male cronies. She could barely hear Pansy's bored voice saying, "Let's go, the breakfast smell is still getting to me, it stinks," before she couldn't bear it any more and let her grip on the two boys slip, panting heavily.

"I didn't know you were so bloody strong, Hermione!" gasped Ron, grabbing at his throat and heaving in great gasps of air. "Why didn't you let me just..."

"Kill that bloody ferret!" snarled Harry, turning upon a breathless Hermione while massaging his throat. "You just let him..."

"Harry James Potter, you're the one who asked me to make friends with that 'bloody ferret', if you still recall!" retorted Hermione, glaring back at him. Harry suddenly felt like he had lost that argument straight down, and flushed a deep red.

"What's gotten into him today?" demanded Ron, as they entered the hall, trying not to look conspicuous with their dishevelled selves and breathless pants. "He's been so stony ever since he entered school, and then suddenly he's totally back to being that bloody..."

They fell into their seats, trying to catch their breaths. Ginny, who was one of the few early Gryffindors, shot them a raised eyebrow. Hermione shook her head, and Harry shot a quick look at her, smiled weakly, and then grabbed a piece of toast to stuff into his mouth before he could release a string of expletives to add onto Ron's sentence.

"It is really really weird," muttered Hermione, reaching for the jam and toast. "One moment he looks really angry and there's like this whole lot of agony in him. Next, he's like a gargoyle, all cold and expressionless. Now, he's completely back to himself again, and particularly snippy, don't you think?"

Harry made a noise that was somewhat a mix of a growl and an exasperated gurgle. Hermione dipped her spreading knife into the jam jar, but her mind was on something else. Silence means consent. She couldn't help feeling really enraged herself. Just because he was such a good-looking freak, it didn't mean that he could drop these lines as if the world would be enamoured with such a devil like him. She didn't really see how she could continue to patrol with him later if he had shot her such a low-down remark, with insult added to that derogatory word that couldn't seem to stop spilling out of his mouth. But when she saw Harry's flushed face as he stuffed the final bit of toast into his mouth, she didn't feel like waving the white flag yet. There were Harry's parents, Sirius, Neville's parents... thinking about parents, Hermione couldn't help wondering, doesn't Draco Malfoy...

She shook off the thought as it came to her mind. He didn't want sympathy, right? And her eyes narrowed as she thought of what a _bloody, insufferable prat_ he was. She grumbled a bit under her breath, then suddenly her thoughts were snapped back to reality when something was pulled out of her grip.

"Hermione?"

"What?" she demanded, annoyed, trying to grab back her spreading knife.

Ron pointed to her fingers, with an amused look on his face. Hermione turned her gaze to her jam-covered fingers, and gave an exasperated sigh, before putting her toast into her mouth, her tongue swirling over her fingers to lick off the sticky jam. _Right now_, she thought, _I really need a plan with someone as complex as Draco Malfoy_.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Draco twirled his quill around his fingers as Professor Slughorn rambled on about the instructions of the Dacedyl Potion in that infuriatingly pompous way of his. Draco felt an urge to leap forward and give those bloody walrus moustache curls a big twist, but kept himself from engaging in such childish acts. Rolling his eyes, he focused them back onto the quill between his fingers. He felt a sudden ache in his left forearm, and tried to keep himself from wincing. There was a lot in his mind, but he had to keep them from surfacing, or else – there'd be consequences.

"Mr Malfoy, you are putting too much of the Wrackle Root into the cauldron," boomed Professor Slughorn, severely, as he whipped his wand over Draco's cauldron. To his surprise, the blond-haired boy gave him a smirk and whipped his own wand over, fishing out the excess Root. "I'm perfectly capable of handling my own potion, Professor," remarked Draco, his eyes glinting.

"Why, yes, of course," muttered Professor Slughorn, and he turned over, a little too quickly, to look at Crabbe's cauldron, which was smouldering and releasing a rather acrid smell that made Crabbe's fat face turn green. Draco's eyes narrowed. _What did he mean by that?_ Then he scowled rather furiously, turning back to his cauldron.

He couldn't help feeling that someone was watching him across the room. He lifted his head up a little, and cast a quick glance over – to the Gryffindor tables. The movement was swift – a flick of brown hair, and Hermione Granger was studiously chopping up her Wrackle Roots.

_She was watching me?_

Draco felt his insides burn. He was starting to get really infuriated with Granger. _She should just go back to being Potter's sidekick and punching the hell out of me, than trying to be this nice little girl trying to save this sick little boy..._ He frowned in disgust. _Sick little boy_. He felt a twisted smile creeping up at the edge of his lips. _Sick all right. I must be sick to think Granger would really give a bat's eye about me_.

He felt her eyes on him again, as he bent over his cauldron.

_Really sick_.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

That night, he really couldn't sleep.

Not that he could sleep well on any night, but this night, the dreams were unfurling on him, fast and furious –

_"Please..." It was Lucius Malfoy's sad, defeated voice once again, floating in the mist. Draco reached out, trying to clear the mist, but there was no face, only the whispers of his father's voice echoing around him. "Please..."_

"Please take care of your mother..."

The last words Lucius Malfoy uttered as he left the house that night. Draco didn't take that much to heart. It was usual; his father going away on a mission for the Dark Lord. It was acceptable, normal, routine. But the way he had uttered it had escaped Draco's thoughts till now, as he heard the wind blow that heart-rending word around again. "Please..."

"Please!" It was higher-pitched now, more desperate, more devastated. His mother. "Please, I beg of you, not my son! You took away my husband, not my son!" It ended with a screech, and a shuddering cry. Draco's arms were more flailing now than trying to push aside the mist. There was a force pushing him backwards, hard and strong.

"Help me..." he whispered, feeling like all the energy in him had been sucked out. All the happiness. The mist was slowly turning dark. The Dementors, he thought, his heart thumping faster and faster by the minute. They're going to kiss me.

"I am Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy..."

"Son, I entrust you this... open it when you should..."

"But how do I know when I should?"

"You will. Not now."

"But..."

"Please take care of your mother."

Draco could feel the mist choking him. Gimlet-like eyes appeared above him, causing him to gasp. The black mist was swirling around him, enveloping him, it was cold, painful, breathless, gone...

"_Expecto Patronum_!"

Dissipation!

He could barely make it out, a figure in front of him, bounding towards him as the black mist was chased away by a white spirit – a bouncy creature, lolling its tongue out – but the figure in front of him was becoming clearer, she looked – yes, she – almost looked like...

"Help me..."

Draco sat up straight in his bed, beads of perspiration dotting his face. Panting heavily, he Accio-ed a glass of water to him, and drank in gulps. When he finally set down his glass, his eyebrows knotted together. Something in his dream...

_I entrust this to you..._

How could he have forgotten? Draco's eyes lit up, and he began to pull out his suitcase from under his bed, stealthily but quickly. He ran a roving eye over the dormitory, and seemed content with the snores that arose from each bed. Then he clicked his suitcase open.

In the pocket of one of the compartments, Draco unzipped it and took out a small little piece of parchment, sealed tight with the Malfoy seal. He had been very curious when had received it from his father just before he had left on the mission, but after a while, he had merely tucked it in that corner and forgot all about it, since he was not to open it until somehow he should be expected to do so.

Now that Lucius was dead, shouldn't he...?

With fingers trembling a little, Draco carefully cut the seal with a light from his wand, and then unfolded the parchment gently.

On it, was his father's familiar cursive writing, sharp yet beautifully curled at each end.

Draco felt his eyes mist a little, and then gritted his teeth.

_Two, two, and three strides,_

Cuts across him, a magic that divides.

A labyrinth of secrets, a ring of truth,

Keeps his power, keeps him aloof.

All that I know I pen with fear

For soon he will make me disappear.

Draco stared at the words in bewilderment. What did his father mean? Who was the _him_ that Lucius was referring to? What was this about secrets and the truth?

Suddenly, it occurred to him, while re-reading the words. He stopped at the last line.

_For soon he will make me disappear._

Draco flinched. The light in his wand extinguished.

With parchment in hand, he slipped out of bed.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Harry couldn't sleep; he kept turning from left to right; his scar was burning.

There was always something wrong when his scar was burning.

Intuition washing over him, he gingerly pulled out the Marauder's Map from a compartment in his suitcase.

"_Lumos_," he whispered, and a faint light sparked out of his wand.

His eyes widened.

Draco Malfoy was wandering about in the corridors at one in the morning. Definitely not a good sign. Harry stared harder, and gaped as he saw the dot of Draco Malfoy sidle into the office of Professor Severus Snape.

Harry crumpled the Map back into his suitcase, his eyes now plunged back into darkness.

There was a lot to Draco Malfoy than it seemed. And Severus Snape.

And he was going to find out.


	6. One in the Morning

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and Co. (esp Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger) are alas! not the product of my creative imagination, which I will have to solemnly credit Ms Rowling for making them such wonderful characters - although I would take credit for the pairing ;)

**A/N:** This chapter is more of a stepping stone - doesn't really have much direct Dramione interaction, but I assure the next one will have plenty of it, and my new character Corrinne will be back in the mix again! For now, it's just more insight to Draco in particular, especially answering the question marks I left at the end of the previous chapter (:

* * *

Harry slipped his Invisibility Cloak over himself as he made his way out of the boys' dormitory, and the Gryffindor common room. Holding the Marauder's Map in his left hand, and his wand in his right hand to illuminate the map, he stealthily crept round to the corridor that led down to most of the Professors' offices. His heart thumping crazily, he tiptoed towards the door that had the bronzed plate carved with the words "SEVERUS SNAPE, DEFENCE AGAINST THE DARK ARTS PROFESSOR" on it.

It had been weird enough when Hermione had come to the common room after her patrol to report that Draco Malfoy had not turned up for patrol. A check with Professor McGonagall had returned a rather stern look and a curt 'he is not feeling well', but neither Hermione nor Harry had believed her. Now he was cosying up to Severus Snape in the middle of the night? Harry frowned heavily.

Hesitating, he pulled out from his robes pocket a string of Extendable Ears which Fred and George Weasley had hurriedly stuffed into his hands before he had boarded the Hogwarts Express. Apparently they had cast some charm on it to prevent it from being noticed by Argus Filch when entering the Hogwarts grounds. Harry wondered when he would ever get to the stage of being able to create the vast array of ingenious charms and hexes the Weasley twins had up their sleeves.

It seemed rather immoral to be such an eavesdropper, but Harry was feeling very jittery of late about the fact that Draco Malfoy was to become a Death Eater (or had he already?), and that if he and Snape were meeting so late at night, it didn't really spell much good either. Especially when Harry's scar had been burning at night.

_I can't believe Professor Dumbledore trusts this slimy git so much._

Harry gingerly placed one end of the Extendable Ears on the door while holding the other end to his ear.

_"... you're not prepared enough, Draco, you know that!"_

"Then what am I supposed to do? You know what the Dark Lord wants. Do you think it's so easy to be accomplished the way he wants it to be? Who are we dealing with here?"

"Draco, calm down! That bullish temper of yours is not going to get you anywhere if you're – if you're a Death Eater!"

"How about I already am, so let's quit that nice teacher talk?"

Harry flinched. So Draco Malfoy had already become a Death Eater!

_"Draco! I promised your mother..."_

"Yeah, you made an Unbreakable Vow to her... bloody hell I KNOW! But the Dark Lord wants me to accomplish this on MY OWN!"

"Draco Malfoy, do you think that if you kill..."

Who Draco Malfoy was supposed to kill, Harry couldn't listen any longer, because the Invisible Cloak was suddenly whipped out of his hands, and the Extendable Ears whisked away, making him gasp and turn around to see who did that.

He was staring at the amused, kindly face of Professor Dumbledore.

"Professor!" whispered Harry, eyes wide. "How did you..."

"Hello Harry," said Professor Dumbledore, with a smile. "Next time if you want to eavesdrop, make sure the Ears don't peek out that much."

Harry felt himself flush furiously.

"Then again..." Dumbledore continued, his expression suddenly turning a little stern. "I believe that if you're out wandering about at night, it does warrant taking off some points from Gryffindor and a little detention, doesn't it?"

"But Professor..." protested Harry.

"And that you are using a rather illegal device as well?" Professor Dumbledore extended a finger towards the Ears that he had confiscated.

Harry mumbled something and stared at his shoes.

"To my office, Mr Potter." He turned around, but not before Harry caught a glimpse of a twinkle in his eye. "I'd like to have a word with you. Put on that cloak first, please."

Frustrated at being rid of the opportunity to listen to what Draco Malfoy's mission was, afraid of what Dumbledore was going to do, and yet slightly pleasantly excited to see the Professor paying some attention to him _finally_, Harry swung the Invisible Cloak over himself and trudged after Professor Dumbledore.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

_Well, well, well, look who we have here. The son of Lucius Malfoy. You will serve me well, won't you Draco? No repeat of the mistakes your father made, or you know the consequences._

Your first mission, Draco. It is no mean feat, thus the long time period allowed, but you know I expect a good job, and you will be duly rewarded.

There was silence. Draco shook his head, and the images of before melded away into the face of Severus Snape before him.

"Is he gone?" asked Draco, finally, bitterly glaring at Professor Snape, who had a frown on his face before he turned back his gaze onto Draco. "Yes, gone."

"Okay, so quit that bullshit we were on," snapped Draco. "You haven't answered me."

"Why are you doing this?" demanded Snape, leaning forward, his eyes narrowing. "It is obvious enough that you had to skip your patrol duty with Miss Granger for your meeting with the Dark Lord, now you're alerting Mr Potter to your shifty little ways? Making him suspect?"

"What, being a Death Eater? In case you haven't realised, it's not really up to me you know," said Draco, with a sneer.

Snape leant back in his chair, his lip curling. "Don't be funny with me, Draco. I'm asking you why you have to make it so obvious when you're just calling attention to yourself. The Dark Lord wants you to do things on the sly, not to announce to the whole world that it's Draco Malfoy who did all these things!"

"Everybody knows that I'm a Death Eater, or going to be one." Draco clenched his teeth. "They think Dumbledore's going to protect them. If I make it obvious I'm planning something, they'll turn to him, and then it'll leave them helpless if I kill Dumbledore, isn't that what the Dark Lord wants?"

There was a deafening silence, except for the heavy breathing of both parties.

Snape turned his piercing glare on a glowering Draco. "You're just being highly immature! Do you really think you can kill Albus Dumbledore with the strength that you have now? This is not a mission the Dark Lord expected you to complete within a year in school, it's an eventual target for you by the end of your school term!"

"Immature?" scoffed Draco. "Look, I only have two school years left, really, if I don't use this," and he pointed to his head mockingly, "I don't think I'm going to live beyond my two school years, you know. So can we stop talking about maturity because I'm going to work through this with my head and not so much with my wand?"

"What are you going to do?" demanded Snape. "I told you already, the green light is given. Even though..." His voice faltered a little. "Are you sure you are going to..."

"I'll settle that myself," growled Draco, not looking at Snape. "I know what to do." He could see his father's face floating in his mind again, the dreams, the ghastly face of Voldemort, even the wise face of Albus Dumbledore... Draco's face twitched a little.

Snape looked as if he was about to burst out at Draco. "And you asked for my help. What makes you think I'd help?"

"You know, what we talked about earlier on wasn't crap, was it?" Draco sneered. "Killing somebody in school... and the _Unbreakable Vow_?" Snape's eyes narrowed. "I believe you still have some kind of obligation to my mother, no?"

Snape snarled a little. Draco merely glared at him.

Finally, Snape got out of his chair and rounded on Draco, his menacing gaze penetrating into Draco's defiant eyes. "Your father was a fool for letting you know. The reason why I made that Vow was because your mother wanted me to make sure you were okay. But if you're plunging into this, you are not going to be okay. At all. You are going to make me break my Vow if you ask me more."

"So you clearly know what this means?" Draco held up the piece of parchment, gripping it tightly in his fist. "Well, the Vow wasn't explicitly about making sure I was okay. It was to help me. If I couldn't do it, then you could. And I'm not going to be able to figure out what this is about, if no other Death-Eater tells me."

Snape closed his eyes, and breathed hard.

"Your first mission is to kill Albus Dumbledore. I have no bloody idea how you're going to settle that yourself when the Dark Lord himself is finding it hard to do it. You're going to get killed yourself, Draco."

"I'm so excited." Draco's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Tell me something I don't already know, _Professor_."

"That's your life you're talking about!"

Draco's eyes were glittering and harsh; Snape's were equally unrelenting.

"It's not that I don't want to tell you, Draco, I don't know enough myself," muttered Snape, his dark eyes flashing. "All I know is that the Dark Lord entrusts four of his most loyal followers with a secret they must take to the grave. He announced it before, long before you joined us. So all the Death Eaters but you know that there is some form of secret, so we try to gain his trust in order to obtain that secret. It is his way of providing an incentive, for us to perform the most dangerous tasks ever."

"But nobody really knows who he truly trusts. None of the four followers must ever reveal that they are the ones with the secret. Your father was often guessed to be one of the four, but nobody dares to speculate much beyond that. Thus, I am guessing that what he left you is likely to be a clue to the secret that the Dark Lord entrusted to him."

Draco's eyes gleamed. "Was I supposed to know about this?"

"Eventually you would come to know of it. We all knew of it by word of mouth," replied Snape, and his cloak swung behind him with a flourish as he walked back to his seat. "It is no secret any longer, especially when Maldash Wentervale gave an unprecedented interview to the Daily Prophet about the going-ons of Death Eaters. It is from his words that sparked off the latest research on the Death Eaters. That man is just asking to be killed."

"Maldash Wentervale?" Light dawned upon Draco. "The exiled Death Eater?"

"The one and only." Snape nodded, sitting down. "Requested to retire because of his affliction with the Newtzer's Disease, a degenerative disease which causes his motor skills to gradually wear away. The Dark Lord could not afford for him to carry on with missions in case he slipped up due to the disease, nor could he kill Wentervale because this man was his benefactor."

"Benefactor?" asked Draco, incredulously.

"Wentervale is a very accomplished Healer, with very unorthodox methods. He never went through St. Mungo, and is probably what the wizarding world would refer to as a Prodigous Being."

Draco whistled. Snape ignored him and continued,

"When the Dark Lord was severely wounded after possessing Harry Potter the year before," Snape's lip had curled heavily at the words 'Harry Potter'. "It was Wentervale who had Healed him perfectly. Which is why the Dark Lord has been eager to demonstrate his recovered prowess, summoning even the weather, which has resulted in the unusual snowfall in summer. Unfortunately, the Newtzer's Disease is incurable, and even Wentervale could not do anything about it, and had to retire."

"But because the foolish man had created such a commotion with his words, the Dark Lord was furious. At first, he contemplated not killing Wentervale, because his secrets could be used as an incentive for the rest of the Death Eaters, as what I have mentioned. But it is now believed that Wentervale was one of the earliest four that the Dark Lord had entrusted secrets to, and if he made any other move, his presence could no longer be tolerated, benefactor or not."

"He is dead, then?" asked Draco.

"No," Snape pursed up his lips. "Far from it."

"But how can...?" Draco was in utter disbelief.

"The Dark Lord refused to kill Wentervale himself, so he sent your father," replied Snape, coolly, drawing a shocked look from Draco. "So your father went. But strangely after creating some elaborate plan to capture Wentervale, your father _let him go_. I have absolutely no idea why he did that, he was committing suicide that way."

Draco flinched a little, but Snape paid no attention.

"And he let him off not once, but twice. It gave the Dark Lord reason to suspect that Lucius was now in the know of the secret that Wentervale had given him. And if the other Death Eaters' speculation is correct, that Lucius was also one of the four trusted followers, then he was now in possession of half the secrets that the Dark Lord had given out, and that made him too dangerous to the Dark Lord."

Draco's face suddenly blanched. The thought of his father made his heart ache, somehow.

"Wentervale is very eccentric and yet very brilliant. Nobody knows how he has managed to be so elusive all this while. The last we heard he was in one of the former Soviet Union states before he disappeared once again. That is all that the Death Eaters know," said Snape, his piercing gaze fixed on Draco. "That is all I know."

Draco shifted his gaze to the ground, not saying a word.

"Draco," Snape continued, less harshly. "Whatever it is, you must remember, it is now your goal to become that one out of four trusted followers."

Suddenly, Draco's knees felt weak and began to wobble. The Dark Mark on his forearm burned. He gritted his teeth.

_Two, two, and three strides._

"You may be young, but you have great potential. I harbour no such hope, because I am too close to Albus Dumbledore to be given too much credit for."

_Cuts across him, a magic that divides._

"You may be a threat because you are potentially harbouring revenge for your father, but if you prove yourself well, you will have a chance..."

_A labyrinth of secrets, a ring of truth._

"...because everyone knows that you were filial to Lucius no matter how harsh he was on you."

_Keeps his power, keeps him aloof._

"And there is the Unbreakable Vow I made to your mother, Draco. Always remember that." There was a hint of bitterness in Snape's voice. "Even if...it does come to that, if you need help, I will...be there."

_All that I know I pen with fear._

"This is your chance, Draco Malfoy, to become one of the most powerful Death Eaters ever."

_For soon he will make me disappear._

Draco took a deep breath to steady himself just then, but that very night, he could not stop the onslaught of nightmares from returning to haunt him once again.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Professor, I really didn't mean to..."

Harry stopped short as he followed Professor Dumbledore up the steps to his office, only to see a tired-looking Hermione sitting in the armchair there, tapping her foot impatiently. She jumped up upon seeing Harry, whose jaw dropped, and flung her arms around him. "Oh, am I glad that you're here too!"

Harry removed her arms from around his neck and stared at Hermione's relieved eyes in bewilderment. "What are you doing here so late at night?"

"Well, really," Hermione eyed Professor Dumbledore, who was now comfortably seated at his desk and throwing them an expectant look. "I caught sight of Professor Dumbledore just after my patrol ended and I ran after him. He said to meet him now. As you know, I had a lot of questions on my mind that I really needed some answers to..."

"So do I!" Harry frowned a bit and then walked right in front of Professor Dumbledore's desk before Hermione could pull him back. "I believe we do need some answers, Professor. Let's just start with, where did Malfoy go just now?"

"Mr Potter, I believe I brought you here to question you about detention?" Professor Dumbledore raised his eyebrows in amusement.

Harry was not amused at all; he merely stifled a snort. Clearly the Headmaster should know better than to talk about detention when they were discussing a potential murderer.

"I believe Minerva enlightened you?" Professor Dumbledore turned to feed his pet phoenix, Fawkes, from a cup.

"I don't believe that!" Harry shot back, in disgust. "Right, if you don't want to answer that, then why are you allowing Draco Malfoy to remain in Hogwarts when he's a Death Eater?"

"He's _already_ one?" broke in Hermione, stunned.

Professor Dumbledore looked straight at Harry. "Harry, this is just the same as somebody asking me – why did I put Harry Potter into Hogwarts when he is the one Voldemort wants to kill? Won't Voldemort start to kill off his friends one by one before reaching him?"

Harry was struck dumb for that instant.

"That's not the same!" retorted Hermione, hotly. "Harry wouldn't hurt..."

"And if Mr Malfoy is in the grounds of Hogwarts, will he try to harm anyone with me around?" asked Dumbledore, placidly.

"You're not always around!" accused Harry, finally finding his tongue. "Where were you that night when you sent us to find Professor McGonagall? So she's supposed to stop Malfoy from doing anything if you're not around?"

Professor Dumbledore looked solemn. "I had things to attend to, Harry, I assure you that Minerva..."

"What about Snape?" challenged Harry. Hermione's eyes widened in confusion at Harry's mention of the Potions professor. "Professor McGonagall versus Professor Snape. I hardly can imagine what the outcome would be. You're the only one Snape listens to..."

"Professor Snape, Harry," corrected Professor Dumbledore. "And what must I do to convince you that Professor Snape is one of us, considering he is in the Order?"

"Then how do you explain what I heard just now?" hissed Harry, pointing to the Extendable Ears that Professor Dumbledore had neatly placed on his desk. "He and Malfoy were plotting to kill someone! Or at least Malfoy was going to, then I don't know what the hell is an Unbreakable Vow, but Snape took it..."

Hermione gave a soft gasp. "The Unbreakable Vow?"

Harry turned upon her. "What is that?"

"Well... as the name suggests... it's Unbreakable..." mumbled Hermione. "If Professor Snape took it, then it means that he can never renege on the vow he made."

"And he made it to Narcissa Malfoy," finished Harry, glaring at Professor Dumbledore. "You still want to tell me he's all good and angelic?"

But Professor Dumbledore was not looking at Harry, he was now looking at Hermione, whose eyebrows had creased together as she was deep in thought.

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione was startled, and looked back at Professor Dumbledore. "Y-yes?"

"You said Harry wouldn't hurt anyone. Do you truly believe Draco has the ability to do so?"

Hermione was really surprised at that question. "Professor..."

"I want you to think carefully. You are doing patrol duty with him now, and if you feel at the least threatened, I may work something out for the two of you."

"No, no," said Hermione, hastily glancing at Harry. "That'll be okay."

"Really?"

"Y-yeah." She was certain that there should be no barriers between her and Malfoy if she were to 'make friends with him', but then again, something about Dumbledore's question was gnawing at her. Did she think Malfoy was capable of hurting anyone? Her mind wandered back to the day when she saw him face off with Corrinne. Would he have struck?

He was volatile, certainly. The way his fists were always clenched and shaking, the way he glared at her, oscillating between death glares and stony looks. Sometimes he was furious and his expression would turn dark and deathly, sometimes he was back to his arrogant, spiteful and mocking self. A walking time bomb would strike, all right. Yet, Hermione couldn't help feeling that he wouldn't really have done it... the way he had pulled Corrinne off her, the expressionless look he shot her...

"...when answers to your questions will come. I've had Minerva answer the basic for you earlier on. I am sorry that I was unable to answer them personally, I really had an important task to complete."

"What...?"

Hermione snapped back to reality upon hearing Dumbledore and Harry speak. But before Harry could continue, Professor Dumbledore had waved his wand, and the two of them were now standing outside his office, where the gargoyle guarding the staircase stood rock-still.

"Damn it, he never really answers our questions, does he?" growled Harry.

"What's this about Snape and Malfoy?" asked Hermione, quickly grabbing Harry by the elbow as they made their way down the corridor.

"I overheard their conversation, because I saw Malfoy go into Snape's office thanks to the Marauders' Map," explained Harry, scowling. "Apparently, Malfoy is about to kill someone, and Snape's gonna help him because of that Unbreakable Vow..."

"Kill someone?" Hermione drew in a sharp breath. "How can Professor Dumbledore let that happen? This is just - preposterous!"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "As he said, he's going to protect us. I'm not so sure I know to what extent Draco Malfoy's powers are. I find him really dangerous ever since his father got murdered. Nobody knows which side he is on, and I'm pretty certain after this, he's not on _our_ side!"

Hermione bit her lip, her mind working fast. "I don't think Malfoy will skip patrol twice in a row, that'll be too conspicuous. Anyway tomorrow I'm having Arithmancy class with the Slytherins, it's the first one of the term. I'll keep an eye on him. There's just something – really wrong with him. I'll give it a try, Harry, don't get too worked up for the time being, or you'll be the conspicuous one."

"Thanks, Hermione." Harry sighed, as they approached the common-room. "Though you must be really really careful, as I said, Malfoy is really pretty dangerous at this point in time."

"Okay," murmured Hermione, and as they climbed through the portrait hole, she couldn't help thinking back on the different expressions that had appeared on Draco Malfoy's face ever since she had seen him from the start of the term.

There was really something wrong with him.


	7. Two, Two, and Three Strides

**Disclaimer:** Ms Rowling holds claim to the beautiful characters she has created.

* * *

"The degree to which the line will intersect the point of origin, will need to be constructed through the formula that is stated on page 367 of your textbook. However, this formula can only be applied to..."

Hermione turned the pages of her textbook, but before she reached page 367, she turned her head to the side and sneaked a peek towards the Slytherin side. Her eye first settled upon Pansy Parkinson, then she shifted a little to land her gaze on Draco Malfoy behind. He was looking at his textbook, but he was expressionless. Just like before. His left hand, however, was clenched up into a fist as his right hand held the quill, as he stared blankly at the book before him.

Hermione hesitated. She knew that Professor Vector would ask the students to pair up today to compare answers on the previous lesson's exercise, though deep inside she was squirming not to face up to the choice she was about to make. _This is travesty!_ She grumbled a little. Then she thought of Harry's stricken face whenever he talked of Sirius and she sighed inwardly.

"So, yes, students, as I have mentioned last lesson," said Professor Vector, cheerfully. "We will have our pairing exercise to compare answers for Exercise 1.1." There was a collective groan, for everyone felt settled in their seats. "Now," she moved on, now frowning, "I would also like all of you to pair up with somebody not from your house." There was a huge outburst of indignant chatter at that. "I'd like to see some inter-house unity, please!" Her sharp voice quietened everyone and then her beam of a smile switched on again. "Please get to work!"

There was some general uncertainty as the students moved about. Hermione felt a wave of relief when Professor Vector had said that; now she wouldn't look completely wankers for approaching Malfoy to be her partner. Although he clearly was not willing to partner with anyone, for that matter, since he was still stuck gazing at his textbook at his seat.

Before Hermione reached him, Corrinne Whitemayer had walked past his desk to give him the most poisonous scorn before she sauntered towards Pansy Parkinson's vacated seat and dumped her books beside a startled Blaise Zabini, who had clearly recovered from his earlier flu but was still looking rather pale. His peaked face flamed red, however, upon Corrinne's arrival, and his face twisted into a scowl. But the scowl was nowhere as deadly-looking as the one a few rows back on Draco Malfoy's face. He was glaring after Corrinne, his face twitching a little. Then he fixed his glare back to his textbook, quill still in hand.

"Er-herm."

Draco looked up from his seat, his steely gray eyes meeting with warm, chestnut ones. He blinked once, then scowled. "_You?_" he demanded, incredulously.

"I'm sorry to admit this, but you happen to be the brightest person in Slytherin. I don't think I'd want to jeopardise my grades," remarked Hermione curtly, as she sat down beside Malfoy, tossing her brown curls and slamming her books down on the desk. "It's not as if I enjoy this very much."

She figured: being all snide with Malfoy would probably be the best way not to arouse his suspicion. Friendship could wait.

Draco's scowl deepened, as he stared straight ahead to see Pansy saddled with Seamus Finnigan; both parties were clearly not very happy to sit beside one another but they'd have to do. Granger was probably the last person that Draco ever wanted to sit with, especially with his current mood. Repressing his snarl, Draco flipped to the exercise pages, and shoved the book rudely to Hermione who glared at him. Instead, she placed hers neatly and gently in front of him.

"I'm not so rude to books," she declared, picking up her quill and starting to read his exercise. Draco's eyes flashed a little then he glared back at her book. There really wasn't any need to look through Hermione Granger's answers; she wasn't labelled a bookworm and know-it-all for nothing. His eyes quickly scanned through her neat handwriting, then he pushed it towards her roughly, causing Hermione's quill to jerk with the impact, leaving a scrawl on Draco's pristine book.

"What the hell?" Draco gasped, as he snatched his book back, horror etched on his face.

"Mr Malfoy..." Professor Vector raised an eyebrow from her desk.

Hermione's eyes were wide. "Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry!"

All eyes were on them, but Draco gave such a menacing glare to all that their eyes were lowered back onto their textbooks. Except Corrinne, who couldn't believe that Hermione had chosen to sit beside Draco in the first place.

"What are you sorry for?" hissed Draco, turning his piercing gaze on a genuinely shocked Hermione. "Sorry that you ruined my book, after talking about being rude to books?"

"It wasn't on purpose!" Hermione was beginning to get angry. Why was he always out to make things worse?

"Or sorry that you ruined the book of a poor little boy who lost his father?" mocked Draco, baring his gritted teeth. "Or sorry that you stained my book with your dirty blood?"

"Would you speak sense, Malfoy!" retorted Hermione, in disbelief. Now he was really getting out of hand! "You knocked into me, and I drew on your book by accident. Would you stop extrapolating things out of context ?"

Hermione was completely outraged at Draco's insane suggestions. _Sorry?_ She was far from feeling any bit of sorry for him now! It wasn't as if she completely pitied him for losing his father; the way Lucius Malfoy tried to kill them at the Department of Mysteries last year was still etched in her mind. Yet the way he had been murdered was rather strange and deserved investigation, and surely as his son, Draco Malfoy must have been devastated. But it didn't give him the right to hurl insults at her and get away with it just because he was supposed to be in mourning! Those cold gray eyes were piercing, penetrating, hurtful; every time he called her a _Mudblood_, it felt ten times worse than when he used to call her that in previous school terms – it was as if he was taking out all his anger and frustration in that one word, twisting it coldly and spitefully to stab at her heart.

She was now having a lot of trouble preventing her hands from reaching into her robes to pull out her wand and hex him right there. _Puppy eyes?_ She glared at him scornfully. _I'd give you puppy eyes yourself!_

On the other hand, Draco didn't really know why he was so angry with Hermione Granger. He didn't know why he kept bringing up the word _Mudblood_ when he knew it hurt her more than anything. It wasn't as if he really wanted to hurt her _per se_, he just couldn't stand the look in her eyes – every time Hermione Granger looked at him in the past, it was filled with defiance, anger and haughtiness. This term, he seemed to have seen her eyes softened; when they looked at him, even if her voice was defiant, those brown eyes seemed to spell sympathy, concern, many many questions that she wanted him to answer... for some reason, he seemed to feel her gaze penetrating him every time she stared...

Merlin, why was he so hung up on Granger? It had always been about Saint Potter and the rash Weasel sidekick. It was never really about Granger, except for when she had buck teeth in first year and looked absolutely horrendous, and was the butt of all jokes. Now there she was, flowy brown curls framing her shocked expression; good grief, it was that pity look again!

It took all of Draco's self-restraint to keep from yelling his guts out; he raised his fist in the air and muttered 'headache' before pushing aside his chair and darting out of class. Hermione, startled out of her anger and the lingering thought of wanting to hex him, was left gaping at her seat, staring after the black robes that disappeared out of the doors.

"Mr Malfoy! Mr Mal... oh, bother." Professor Vector looked peeved. "Well then, Miss Granger, are you..."

"I'm okay," replied Hermione, hastily brushing down her robes, but her eyebrows were still knotted together. "I can work alone." Professor Vector nodded and sighed, sitting back down again with a disapproving look, making a mental note to inform the Head of Slytherin House about his student's inappropriate behaviour. Right in front of Hermione, Pansy Parkinson leaned to face her, startling her a bit.

"My, my, you even dared to try light a ticking time bomb," whispered Pansy, a smirk forming on her face. "Very courageous, my dear Gryffindor..." She turned back to Seamus' textbook. Hermione stared after her black bob, and bit her lip. As the vision of Pansy blurred, the face of Corrinne in the row front of Pansy came into view. Corrinne gave her a look almost as poisonous as that of what she gave Draco earlier on, and Hermione let out a soft gasp and hurriedly faced down. She was now staring at Draco Malfoy's now crumpled textbook in front of her. Immaculate handwriting, perfect answers... save for the dishevelled pages and the damned ink scrawl. Cursing under her breath, Hermione shut the book and glared heavily at it.

She noticed the spine of the book was crooked, however. Hermione raised her eyebrows. He didn't like people to scrawl on his books, but he was willing to let the book spine suffer? Her bookworm self reared an angry head as she picked out the page at which the book had been opened to the maximum and subsequently spoiled the spine.

The book opened up to the earlier page of 367 on degrees and lines of intersection.

Hermione's sharp eye caught side of a very thin script at the bottom of the chunk of text. It was clearly Draco Malfoy's handwriting; the immaculate curls and flourishes.

_For soon he will make me disappear._

Hermione's eyes widened. _He? Who?_

Somebody was going to make Draco Malfoy disappear?

Her eyes roved over the rest of the page, and the subsequent pages, but there were no other clues. Frowning, she shut the book. Draco Malfoy had a secret and it was up to her to find out what it was.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Corrinne?" Hermione's anxious voice rang out in the corridors, as she slung her bag sloppily over her shoulder and raced through the crowds of students, chatter rising above the chiming school bell. "Corrinne, hey, wait up..."

"What's it that you want?" demanded Corrinne, through gritted teeth as she soldiered on, not looking at Hermione as the brown-haired girl caught up with her. "You want to let me know anything you've discovered about Draco Malfoy so I can, you know, get an edge over him or something? Or you're going to side with a newfound _boyfriend_ and totally bitch about your housemate to him? You know seriously, Hermione Granger, I don't really give a damn about what you and Malfoy are..."

"_Boyfriend?_" squeaked Hermione, staring at Corrinne in disgust as she tried to keep up with the blonde girl's hasty footsteps. "Corrinne, how could I _ever_ want to..."

Corrinne suddenly swung around, stopping Hermione in her tracks abruptly. Her red eyes flashed more than ever, almost glittering, and a smirk hung at the edge of her lips. "He _defends_ you when I try to get you back for disarming me. You choose to sit with _him_, out of all the damned Slytherins, you pick _him_! You know what this son of a..." Corrinne took a deep breath. "..._did_."

"His father," corrected Hermione, frowning. "Not him."

"Oh, and it makes a difference?" Corrinne laughed, but it wasn't a very nice laugh. "Last I heard, that young 'un just became a Death-Eater. Absolutely harmless young man. Charming, even. I was just telling Parvati and Lavender just now, his charming index has just gone up one more notch with all that mystery about him," Corrinne's cooing voice was sinister, so unlike the fun-loving, gossipy girl Hermione had met at the Gryffindor dining table on the first day of school. "So much so, that you're willing to get all close up with him!"

"You're getting it wrong!" burst out Hermione, frustrated, running her hand through her brown curls. "Merlin, he's the last guy I'm ever going to like, seriously! Look, Corrinne, I just needed to clarify things with you – I'm not trying to help Malfoy; I disarmed you the last time because it's against the school rules to be hexing someone in the middle of the corridor!"

"_Against the school rules!_" mimicked Corrinne, turning her back on Hermione and starting to walk on.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Corrinne! What am I supposed to do to make you believe I don't like that freak? I chose him because I know he'd score fantabulously in that exercise as he always does! Seriously, he got full marks."

Corrinne stopped and turned around to face Hermione. Her eyes were now uncertain.

"Really." Hermione put her hands on her hips.

"Full marks?" muttered Corrinne, staring at her shoes. "Damn him."

Hermione sighed. "Look, I don't have it very easy – I have patrol duty with him; if I'm going to have a spat with him every time I see him, I'd probably go up in flames very soon. And I know you hate him to the core, I know you're sick of everyone pitying him for losing that wretched father of his, and believe me, I'm far from pitying that ferret. He's playing that stoned look card too much it grates my nerves!"

Corrinne raised her eyebrows. So it seemed that Hermione knew what was going on in her mind. She scowled a little, feeling a little regretful for sounding so insulting earlier on.

"Look, I am not going to try to talk you out of hating Malfoy, not after what his father did. I've said a billion times it's Lucius Malfoy who did it, not his son, but it's not getting in, so I'm quitting that talk," rattled Hermione, breathless. "I also know that Draco Malfoy is now a Death-Eater." She paused as Corrinne snorted, as if to say _I told you so_. "And he's absolutely dangerous to have in Hogwarts. But – I need to get to know him that little bit better so that we can have some prevention, no?"

"You're trying to spy on him?" asked Corrinne, incredulously.

Hermione didn't know whether it was really right to tell Corrinne of anything that she, Harry and Ron had planned, or what Professor McGonagall had told them. Perhaps it was best to work with omission of facts. "Let's just say I don't want any unforeseen circumstance to occur. He remains a ferret no matter what, okay? Wanting to be civil with him is tiring enough, let alone friends."

Corrinne seemed satisfied with her words, at the same time, looking a bit rueful. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I was rash."

Hermione smiled. "It's okay."

"So if I kick Malfoy's arse at the Quidditch game tomorrow, you'll cheer the loudest?"

Hermione thought for a moment. Corrinne stared at her in disgust. "You can't be serious! You're actually contemplating _not_ doing that?"

"No, I'm just contemplating whether I should cheer louder that you did it, or if Harry did it," sniggered Hermione.

Corrinne rolled her eyes. "Good grief."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Draco made his way down the dormitory staircase into the empty Slytherin common room. He was about to exit it through the portrait hole when he heard a shuffle of noise from the staircase. He instinctively turned back, and saw Blaise Zabini limping down the staircase. Ever since the flu, it seemed Zabini was still a lot weaker than usual. Draco cocked an eyebrow at his friend, who limped his way to one of the armchairs.

"You okay?" His voice was hesitant.

Blaise snorted as he settled into one of the chairs. "Since when did Malfoy start showing so much concern for his friends, huh?"

"Blaise," warned Draco, frowning.

"Sorry mate," muttered Blaise, leaning against the chair and closing his eyes, his hands reaching up to massage his forehead. "It's just that the rest've been telling me you're just this stone cold, irritable freak walking around." He managed a faint smile. "I mean, not that they said 'freak' of course, I did."

Draco scowled.

"It's tough, Draco, it's not like nobody knows that..."

"Quit the preaching, Blaise."

"Sorry. Off my head these few days," came the muffled reply as Blaise buried his nose into a handkerchief and blew loudly.

"Where'd you get such a bloody cold from?" demanded Draco, taking a few steps back and eyeing Blaise, who shrugged. "Haven't the faintest idea. Wish it'd just go away. You going for patrol now?"

Draco kept himself from rolling his eyes. "You've a better idea?"

"Wish I could. If only it wasn't going to ruin your chances of becoming Head Boy," said Blaise, wryly. Draco did roll his eyes now. "I appreciate your kindness, Blaise, but that's not the point."

"Then what is?"

Draco couldn't really tell Blaise that Hermione Granger was the problem, so he just sighed and threw up his hands in exasperation, before walking out of the common-room.

Making his way down the staircase, his mind had shifted from his conversation with Blaise to his conversation with Snape the night before. Why did his father leave behind such a cryptic message before he was murdered? He _knew_ he would be murdered by Voldemort for letting Maldash Wentervale escape twice. What was the secret that Maldash knew, that his father now knew? Was that... was that what his father was trying to tell him in that message? But what did _two, two, and three strides_ have to do with anything? Or...

He had unconsciously been walking in that manner. _Two, two, and three strides._ Pause.

_Two, two, and three strides._

"Honestly, Malfoy, taking seven steps in such a rhythm makes you look extremely ridiculous. There's an old Chinese poem which was written in seven steps. Are you composing a poem, or are you displaying your pathetic dancing skills?"

Hermione's incredulous voice jolted him back to reality, as she stood in front of him on the third-level corridor, raising an eyebrow. Draco was about to display his most annoyed scowl, when what she said clicked in his head.

_Taking seven steps in such a rhythm._

Two, two, and three.

Seven.

Seven? What did that have to do with anything?

"Malfoy?" Hermione gave him a tentative tap on the shoulder, surprised that he didn't really respond to her insult.

Again , he shook himself back to reality, and gave her a look of pure disgust. "Don't touch me!"

"Well then, if you please, pureblood majesty, it's duty time, so stop standing there like an idiot!" Hermione gave him a vicious glare, before swinging her robes behind her and walking to the furthest end of the corridor. Draco pursed up his lips, scowled, then headed in the opposite direction.

Seven strides.

_Cuts across him, a magic that divides._

Seven cuts across him? Who was him?

_For soon he will make me disappear._

'_Him_' had to be the same person as '_he_', Draco realised. Which meant...

Voldemort.

That didn't make any sense to him. Feeling a bubble of frustration rise up in him, he quickened his pace and maintained a stoic pose when he reached the end of the corridor. His eyes scanned left and right for any errant offenders, then something at the back of his head told him to look elsewhere. He cautiously turned around to look at the back of Hermione Granger.

She had insulted him. That somehow felt a lot better than just walking away when he had insulted her the previous day. At least she wasn't giving him any concessions. Some of the professors in school just had to do that, it made him boil with rage – Professor Sprout had asked if he wanted an extra day to complete his exercise, just in case he wasn't able to focus well during the lesson; Professor Flitwick had been unnaturally generous with his praises, lavishing them all over Draco's charm work even though Draco had not volunteered to answer any of his questions. Professor Slughorn had let him get off easy despite him talking back. They treated him like he was an invalid after his father's death! It was just preposterous!

He could feel his left forearm burning again.

He wasn't an invalid. Not with that mark branded on him. He cursed under his breath. But of all the things to prove that he wasn't broken from Lucius' death, he had to get that mark. The mark of pure evil. The mark of death.

Draco turned away from Hermione's figure. He could feel the familiar constricting feeling in his chest. Grabbing at his chest, he sank down to his knees, trying to gasp for air. With another hand gripping onto a banister by the side, he could see exploding dots in front of him, and the booming, recurring voice of Lucius, crying desperately,

_"Please! Please!"_

Draco could feel his eyes roll back, as he struggled to stay conscious, but all he could feel was a sudden burst of air from his lungs, and a distant lull of a voice, and the darkness gave way immediately to a single bright light which overwhelmed his vision, his body, his senses...

"Malfoy? You there?"

"Mr Malfoy?"

Draco opened his eyes. He was no longer on the third-floor corridor. Instead, he was lying down on something soft, and seeing three faces hover over him.

"Miss Granger, there'd be no more need for you to remain here."

It was unmistakably Snape's curt voice. "But..." protested Hermione.

"I'll just go get his medicine ready," murmured Madam Pomfrey, and disappeared hurriedly.

"What... am I doing here?" croaked Draco, groaning as he tried to sit up. Ignoring Snape's glare, Hermione walked to the other side of his bed and helped to fluff up his pillow. Draco gave her an ungrateful scowl before looking to Snape again.

"You fainted," said Snape, drawling out the words, but his eyes were fierce. "Do you recall why?"

Draco was not going to reveal his vulnerability when Hermione was there. He looked over at Hermione and glared at her.

"You're extremely grateful, I can see," muttered Hermione, darkly, before she turned and left the Hospital Wing.

Snape looked expectantly at Draco.

"Nightmares," whispered Draco, staring at his blanket.

"Your father?" asked Snape, in a low voice.

Draco nodded. "And... and _him_."

_Him. His. He._ The pronouns swirled in his head. "What are the seven cuts across him?" came Draco's faint voice.

Snape stared at him, puzzled. "What?"

"The parchment," said Draco, turning his gray eyes to meet Snape's dark ones. "It talks about seven cuts across _him_. Do you know anything about that?"

Snape drew himself to his full height and shook his head. "If I were one of the four who knew anything, I'd have told you, Draco. The _Unbreakable Vow_," he drew out every word with a bitter tone. "If you remember."

"You don't have to sound so unwilling," snapped Draco, wincing a little as something pounded in his head. "I'm just asking." Then he paused. "Do you – know..."

"I see you don't really need any more lessons."

"What?" Draco was surprised by this sudden comment. "What's... what's that supposed to mean?"

Snape smirked. "I don't know what you want to ask me. You're getting quite good at keeping me out of your head."

For the first time, Draco felt a wave of relief wash over him. "That's... that's good. Well, I – do you know who could possibly be the other Death Eaters that the Dark Lord would trust?"

"No," said Snape, curtly, and Draco's heart sank. "But I do know someone who was close to Maldash Wentervale."

Draco's eyes lit up. "Who?"

"His half-sister, Lanneria Wentervale, is married to Jeremiah Greengrass."

"_Greengrass_?" Draco's eyebrows shot up. "As in Daphne and Astoria Greengrass? How's Jeremiah Greengrass related to them?"

"That's for you to find out," replied Snape, who didn't look very pleased. "I think that's all I can tell you."

Then he pushed aside the curtains and strode out of the Hospital Wing quickly.

The first thing that came into Draco's mind was that he had a Quidditch match tomorrow. He groaned inwardly. He would somehow convince Madam Pomfrey later about that. As for now... he was about to settle back down into his bed and ponder about Jeremiah Greengrass and Lanneria Wentervale, when suddenly a familiar head of brown curls appeared, causing him to gasp in bewilderment.

"What the HELL are you still doing here?" he hissed angrily, eyes darting to the side to see if Madam Pomfrey was approaching. She was at the far end of the wing, unfortunately.

Hermione was frowning. "Who's Maldash Wentervale? I've read so many books and I've never come across that name..."

Draco was in a state of pure horror. "You _heard_ me? You _eavesdropped_?" He couldn't believe Snape had not discovered that Hermione had been eavesdropping. "How could..."

"I've learnt the art of Occlumency," replied Hermione, simply. "Harry learnt it from Snape and I begged him to teach me some; I learnt the rest on my own because he wasn't very proficient at it."

Draco couldn't believe his ears; he was now extremely incensed. "And how _dare_ you eavesdrop on my conversation..."

Hermione walked up in front of him and gave him a very angry glare that made him shrink back a little involuntarily. "Well, it just happens that I want to know why you fainted out of the blue during patrol," she hissed back. "And then suddenly Snape appears to get me out of here, you're not the least bit appreciative, and then suddenly I hear you say the word 'nightmares' just as I exit the room. Maybe you know – I just happened to be that little bit concerned." Draco gave a snort. "Because I know you are a Death-Eater." She finished, still glaring hard at him.

"Aren't you afraid?" whispered Draco, suddenly lowering his voice into a silky tone, eyeing her with a smirk, as he rolled up his sleeve on his left forearm. Hermione recoiled with a gasp as she saw the black mass swirl into the familiar mark of the Death-Eater; the skull with serpents. She had seen it so many times, but none were as repulsive-looking as the symbol now etched on his forearm; it was so alive. "Aren't you afraid I'd just kill you?" He suddenly grabbed her wrist and clenched hard around it, causing her to issue a whimper in pain. "Don't tell me your noble Gryffindor courage is going to say 'oh I'm not afraid at all' because I could just kill you right now!" He tightened his hold on her frail wrist and she bit her lip, willing herself not to scream out loud in the Hospital Wing.

"Then... then why don't you kill me now?" she stammered, wincing hard as her right hand tried to free her left, but Draco caught her other wrist in another crushing grip, causing her to buckle to her knees in agony.

"I'm not after your life, Granger, I don't murder for the fun of it," whispered Draco, trying to hide the pain in his voice as he spoke the word 'murder'. "But I swear, if you try to get in my way, you'll be sorry for it. I'll send you to hell for it!"

He let go of her wrists, sending her crashing to the ground as her swollen wrists could not break her fall. His blood was boiling; he didn't want anybody to know what he was thinking, he couldn't let anyone – not even Snape, know how vulnerable he was. He was a Death-Eater; he was powerful, dangerous, evil; and there she was, trying to catch her breath and nursing her wrists and cringing as she tried to stand up, wobbly, but with a defiant expression.

"You're just too proud for your own good," she whispered, "and that's what I should pity you for, not because your father died." She staggered out of the Hospital Wing.

Draco stared at the door through which she exited, and then back at his own palms, crimson red from the pressure he had exerted on her wrists. The wrists that bore the same colour as his palms. Gritting his teeth, he sank back under the sheets, mind whirling full of strides, Dark Marks, running exiled men, Snape's crooked face and greasy hair, his father's stern countenance, his mother's weeping figure...

And a bunch of brown curls.


	8. To Kill, or Not To Kill?

**Disclaimer:** I don't have a Lego statue modelled after me :( then again that might be a little disturbing...so therefore the rights to Harry Potter belong to the one who really has a Lego bust - Ms Rowling.

* * *

The stadium was crowded with waving flags, scarves, hats, bursting with the four bright colours of each house, and with the exuberant energy of teenagers. Zipping around the pitch, penetrating through the cheers and boos of the crowd, were the Quidditch players from both the Gryffindor and Slytherin Houses. It was the first Quidditch match of the season, and everyone was cheering to their hearts' content.

Hermione waved her maroon and gold scarf embroidered with the words "GRYFFINDOR" enthusiastically as Harry zipped past the Gryffindor stands, sending all into wild cheers. The next player to follow was Corrinne, who had successfully auditioned to be Chaser, and Parvati and Lavender screamed excitedly. Ginny was the third one to fly by, and she gave the crowd a wink, and the girls in particularly squealed with delight and cheered loudly. Guaranteed, the girls were not absolutely into Quidditch (especially Hermione), but when your friends were on the pitch, one couldn't help being drawn into the ecstatic mood. Ron, visibly thrilled at finally making the team as Keeper for this season, was hovering near the rings, attempting to do acrobatic flips and stretching his limbs, though after a while, he was having some difficulty stabilising himself back onto the broom, his face just as red as the Gryffindor colours he was wearing.

"Match will begin in five minutes' time! We are going to see an extremely fascinating match between Gryffindor and Slytherin, the houses with a great rivalry spanning decades..."

The microphone was abruptly cut off, and then as Hermione turned to see who the commentator was, a very bright red Susan Bones was muttering, "I mean, with a great _healthy_ rivalry, being the top two houses in Quidditch last term...", with a rather annoyed Professor McGonagall standing by the side.

Hermione turned her eyes upwards to see the first of the Slytherin players, a peaked Blaise Zabini, but with a devious smirk on his face, as he zipped past the booing Gryffindor students and pretended to head straight towards Ron. Ron was alarmed and nearly fell off his broom, but Blaise took a sharp turn and waved mockingly at a furious Ron, who held on to his broom tighter than ever.

After a few more green cloaks, Hermione saw Draco Malfoy sail past effortlessly, his blond hair more striking than ever, and his stony eyes harder than usual. He had insisted on playing despite landing in the Hospital Wing yesterday, much to Madam Pomfrey's chagrin. For a second, his eyes landed upon hers, and Hermione let out a soft gasp, for his gaze seemed to penetrate her and gnaw at her. Then he shot up straight into the air, his green cloak billowing, and Hermione felt herself irresistibly drawn to watching his every move.

PHWEEE! Madam Hooch's whistle blew sharply, and the Quaffle was thrown up into the air. Sharp-eyed Corrinne dashed straight at it before Blaise could get at it, eliciting a roar of anger from the Slytherin player, as the lithe Gryffindor girl niftily dodged his grasp and the other Slytherin players. Just as the Beaters launched a Bludger towards her, she deftly passed the Quaffle to Katie Bell on her left, and banked a sharp right to avoid the bomb of a Bludger. Katie winged past a cursing Beater and launched the Quaffle straight at the top ring, and it looked almost certain that the Slytherin Keeper Michael Shetridge would catch it comfortably... only for Ginny Weasley to speed through the stunned Slytherins and loop the Quaffle over the unsuspecting Shetridge, knocking it straight through the ring, and sending the Gryffindor crowd into a wild, raucous cheer.

"TEN POINTS TO GRYFFINDOR! Ginny Weasley has intercepted the Quaffle to beat Shetridge for the first goal of the season. Now it remains to be seen whether her brother, on the other end of the pitch, will manage to pull off any spectacular saves for his first match of the season..."

The next ball that went up – Corrinne was no match for a vengeful Blaise, who sped at it like a bullet and threw it immediately at his fellow Chaser. Katie and Ginny tried to intercept the passes, but the powerful throws and sly curves at which the Quaffle was thrown made it an impossible feat, and it was not long before Ron was beaten at the rings, his red face turning a deeper shade of crimson as the Slytherin crowd shrieked with joy and the Gryffindors' faces turned glum. The other houses applauded politely, but half of them were glancing in Ron's direction and looking disapproving. Hermione felt sorry for her friend, because he must have badly anticipated making his first save of the day, especially for the first on-target shot of the opposing team.

As the Quaffle was thrown around the pitch and through goal hoops, with dangerous Bludgers zipping around, Hermione looked upwards to see Harry and Draco shifting uneasily on their brooms as they scanned the pitch for the tiny, fluttering Snitch. It seemed that Harry had spotted it first; suddenly, there was a blur where Harry had been, and immediately, Draco gave chase. Hermione's heart leapt as she saw the two figures converge onto a spot in the middle of the pitch, where a Bludger was rocketing towards...

There was a sudden scuffle in the middle of the pitch; Harry and Draco had broken free of the ruckus and were heading to another corner at lightning speed, but Hermione's attention was pulled back to the centre where Madam Hooch had sped towards with a couple of Quidditch paramedics carrying a stretcher. It seemed that one of the Slytherin players was being stretchered off, while a new green-cloaked player was getting ready at the stands.

"Slytherin House has unfortunately lost one of their star players to the Bludger Bazooka – Blaise Zabini has suffered massive impact and will be replaced by Victor Hanselhurst..."

Hermione saw Corrinne smirk a little at the rest of the Gryffindor team, while Ginny looked rather cross. Then Hermione looked up and saw Draco and Harry still speeding around the stadium – Harry's expression was full of concentration and determination, his eyes locked onto the fluttering ball that was happily skipping out of his way, but it was Draco's deadly expression that scared Hermione – his face was as black as thunder, as his gaze flickered towards the ground where Blaise Zabini was moaning on his stretcher, and then the gaze landed upon Hermione once again as he flew past the Gryffindor stands...

"MALFOY, GET THAT BLOODY SNITCH!" A roar rose up from the Slytherin crowd, and the fire in Draco's chest flared – his attention was snapped back to reality as he concentrated on the golden Snitch that was fluttering near one of the goal rings on the Slytherin side. Suddenly, he pulled back and waited as Harry unsuspectingly chased after the Snitch. Leaning towards his left as Harry zipped to the right, he watched as the Snitch hesitated, before slipping out of Harry's grasp, and speeding towards his direction...

Draco's eyes narrowed as he saw the Snitch coming... he accelerated to meet the Snitch, but it had a better idea and decided to make a sharp descent towards one of the players... Draco and Harry both dove after it... it was hovering just above Corrinne Whitemayer's head as she was poised to receive the Quaffle from Ginny...

Harry banked sharply away from Corrinne, as the Snitch cheekily dodged their outreached hands, but Draco could not brake in time and ended up colliding into Corrinne.

What happened next was quite a blur.

Draco could only feel his carefully crafted blond hair smashing flat against Corrinne's hands which were frantically clawing at him in her desperate bid to stay on her broom; his mind was whirling as he felt something sharp draw across his cool cheek, a stinging pain, a lot of noise, it was altogether very confusing and he felt like he was falling through a dreadful vacuum. It was not long however, before he regained his senses, and he saw a madly furious Corrinne in front of him grabbing onto his collar – and they were fast approaching the ground.

"It looks like Slytherin's Seeker Draco Malfoy and Gryffindor's Chaser Corrinne Whitemayer are in some kind of aerial duel... my, what biceps Malfoy has... sorry, AHHH IT LOOKS LIKE THEY ARE PLUMMETING TO THE GROUND!..."

"MADAM HOOCH, WOULD YOU PLEASE..." Professor McGonagall's urgent pleas cut in through Susan Bones' shrieks.

Draco immediately tried to pry Corrinne's strong fingers off him, gasping as the collar of his cloak was choking him. With a massive effort, he righted himself back onto his broom, effectively jerking Corrinne back onto hers, and somewhat slowed their fall to the ground. Draco landed gracefully, while Corrinne fell awkwardly, and Madam Hooch with her paramedic team came rushing forth once again.

"Such disgraceful behaviour!" Draco could hear Madam Hooch's reproving voice as she waved her wand over Corrinne and Draco like a scanner. "No broken bones, that's for sure, what a relief..."

Overhead, there was a sudden exuberant burst of cheer, breaking over the stadium like a an illuminating spotlight, as Susan Bones' excited chirpy voice squealed, "HARRY POTTER GRABS THE SNITCH ONCE AGAIN – IT'S ONE HUNDRED AND NINETY POINTS TO GRYFFINDOR AGAINST FIFTY FOR SLYTHERIN... GRYFFINDOR WINS!"

The Gryffindor stand erupted in a blazing mix of whoops and cheers and screams, while the Slytherins began to leave the stands miserably, as Harry beat his fist in the air triumphantly while hovering above the stadium. Draco could feel quite a number of his housemates glaring at him as they made their way out, as if pinning all responsibility for the loss onto Draco. Not that it wasn't his fault, Draco knew that if he had been quicker, he would have avoided colliding into Corrinne Whitemayer and nicked the Snitch out of Harry's grasp.

He had other things to worry about however, when Corrinne broke free of the paramedic's firm grip and was lunging towards him... Draco took a step back, and Corrinne was once again restrained by the paramedics, with Madam Hooch barking angrily at her – her red eyes flashed with a vengeance, and Draco could feel them boring into him like gimlets. She was clearly not going to let the matter rest. He broke out of his trance at staring into Corrinne's eyes while she was hustled off, when Madam Hooch came face-to-face with him and scowled.

"I don't appreciate such behaviour on the pitch, Mr Malfoy, I expect that a seasoned player like you should not be getting into scuffles and aerial battles, it is highly unbecoming – much less that you are a prefect and vice-captain of your Quidditch team. You are highly lucky to escape unscathed, whilst Ms Whitemayer has to be attended to with some scrapes. Please do not let this unfortunate event occur again!"

With that, Madam Hooch turned and left. Draco felt there was no point in arguing, but his face darkened as he thought of Blaise being stretchered off as well. He stood there, rock-solid on the spot for a long while, till the stadium was empty and quiet. Then he turned and made to go back to the lockers, so that he could pack up and check on Blaise at the Hospital Wing. _I'll have to make sure that spitfire isn't around there... how dare she lead Blaise into being knocked off by that bloody Bludger!_ He thought of Corrinne's red eyes again and felt a familiar surge of anger and pain rise up in him – anger with the thought of her smirk after Blaise fell off his broom, the way she insulted his father, and pain with the Dark Mark aching once again.

Immediately, all thought of Quidditch action faded from his mind, as the pain in his arm intensified. He needed to act fast, or else the Dark Lord would act before him.

He stopped short.

Standing in his way, by the side of the stadium wall, was that familiar head of brown curls. Draco groaned inwardly. _Not again!_

"Are... are you okay?" the tentative voice asked.

"Get lost, Granger."

Hermione frowned. "Stop asking me to get lost. You could have broken your bones with that tussle!"

"And why would you care?" Draco sneered, advancing towards her such that she gulped and backed away. "Why would you care, since I'm such a proud jerk according to you, you snivelling little _Mudblood_?"

Hermione felt like she was about to explode, but she swallowed hard. "I'm not here to engage in a battle of words with you. If you're just going to stick to using that derogatory word, you're not a worthy adversary at all."

"Then you should just scram. I don't find you worthy either, especially since you're a _Mudblood_, so stop wasting my time and leave. Go celebrate with Mighty Potter and comfort Weasel about his fumbled save!"

Hermione tried to remain as calm as possible. She remembered the gleaming eyes that connected with hers during the match. Hard. But yet... not cold... she had been startled to realise that. It had always been cold... till then...

"I – I just wanted to tell you something," she said at last.

Draco glared at her impatiently. He couldn't think of anything that little eavesdropper could possibly have to tell him about. "Some insults? Save that for your worthy adversary, Granger. I couldn't be bothered." He proceeded to stalk off.

"I know who Maldash Wentervale is."

Draco stopped walking and snickered. "And so? Not too bad, Granger, you've managed to stick your nose out of your books for once."

Hermione flushed a deep red. "Ginny told me nobody dares to publish his name in books for fear of V-Voldemort killing them." Draco suddenly felt a little impressed that she dared to use the Dark Lord's name. "So, the wizarding families all know of him being on the loose of late but dare not speak his name. Ginny knows because Mrs Weasley warned her children to beware of this man. And – and I don't know because they were not allowed to talk about Wentervale in Hogwarts..." She drew a deep breath. "Because of you."

"So why are you talking to me about him?" asked Draco, his silky voice returning as he eyed Hermione. "You really aren't afraid, are you? I threatened to kill you, and here you are talking about the Dark Lord's nemesis in front of the Death-Eaters' newest recruit, the one eager for glory, to to take over his father's position as one of the most revered Death-Eaters. You are Potter's best friend, I could easily give you up to the Dark Lord and trap Potter into making a cruel decision to give you up or give himself up."

Draco's words stung badly, but Hermione fought off the gnawing fear in her heart to reply as coolly as possible. "If you did, you would give me up now. And don't say it's because you're in Hogwarts so obviously you're not taking action. You're blowing up this whole Death Eater thing yourself. You made Harry believe that you are plotting to kill someone, didn't you?"

Draco was stunned. "What?"

"Yesterday at the Hospital Wing you were so angry that I eavesdropped because you thought it was impossible. You thought with Professor Snape's skills he could ensure that nobody was listening. But you didn't know I had learnt Occlumency, so I blocked Professor Snape from accessing my mind, and he had no idea I was in listening distance. Clearly, he would have guessed Harry was listening that night you were in Professor Snape's office, because Harry had made no attempt to practice Occlumency while listening."

Draco couldn't stop being impressed with Hermione. Her quick-thinking had hit everything spot on. Yet at the same time, he was incensed at how she had broken everything down into bits and pieces.

"And how do you know I'm not really plotting to kill someone?"

"That's irrelevant at this point in time, you're not ready for it," shot back Hermione. "The point is you wanted Harry to know that. You want us to be on our guard against you. You're telling me all these things about giving me up to the Dark Lord to threaten Harry, but you won't do it. That's irrelevant to your goal, Malfoy."

Draco couldn't believe his ears; he swung back and advanced upon Hermione again. But she did not retreat. When he was standing just right in front of her, his eyes blazing, he whispered,

"What is my goal, pray tell me, Granger. Tell me what's my goal."

Hermione closed her eyes. "You want to take revenge for your father."

There was a cold silence.

Then Draco threw back his head and laughed. His harsh laughter rang around the empty stadium, almost deafening Hermione. She cringed. It was not a very nice laughter at all.

"Revenge? You said I'm not ready to kill. What revenge, my dear Granger? I told you I'm not killing you because I don't murder for the fun of it. But it doesn't mean I'm not ready to do so if you're in my way. I made it very clear yesterday. It seems to me that you don't really understand this logic."

She just stared at him queerly. Draco suddenly felt a wave of uneasiness sweep across him as those chestnut eyes stared fixatedly, and he looked away uncomfortably.

"Yeah I don't, Malfoy, I really don't understand. Why do you want to do the same thing that killed your father?"

His eyes swung back to meet hers, full of fire and rage. "Don't speak to me about my father like you know _anything_!"

Hermione defiantly stood her ground. "If I'm preventing you from being a murderer, you'll just go ahead and demonstrate that you are by killing me. And then you'll go on to kill whoever you're supposed to kill. And then you'll kill whoever that gets in your way in the meantime. Draco Malfoy, how different will you be from Voldemort?"

That really cut deep into him. Draco instinctively pulled out his wand as his heartbeat accelerated with fury and pain. Hermione refused to defend herself, just staring straight back at him.

"You know nothing, _nothing_!" whispered Draco, hollowly, trying to fight down the lump forming in his throat. "So don't act like you do, Granger, even if I don't kill you, I can maim you for life, and you will regret the day you provoked me into doing it!"

"Don't," said Hermione, in as calm a voice she could manage without trembling at the sight of the wand brandished at her nose. "Please."

_Please._

Draco felt as if a bucket of ice cold water had been dumped on him. He was trembling, shivering even, his cloak felt like a thin sheet of paper, and the freezing wind was swirling around him unrelentingly. Suddenly, his knees buckled, and he sank to the floor like a ragdoll, speechless, and the arm which was raised earlier to point the wand at Hermione, limp.

_Please._

Hermione could hardly believe that the crumpled, blank-looking figure on the snow-covered ground was Draco Malfoy, the newly-inducted Death Eater, nicknamed the Slytherin Prince. His eyes were now vacant, hollow, and he was breathing hard. She fought to gather up her courage to speak.

"Look... I don't know what you and Professor Snape were talking about the other day, I don't know what Maldash Wentervale has got to do with anything, I don't know to what extent Draco Malfoy will go to to achieve his goal or what Voldemort will make him do. But, Malfoy, I know you're not meant to be a murderer, not like the evil creature who murdered your father. So don't be like him."

Draco could feel the air around him constrict, turning Hermione's voice into an echo.

"I don't expect you to trust me, hell, I hate you, Draco Malfoy, for all that you've done to Harry, Ron and I over the last five years – being an insufferable prat, trying to suck up to Umbridge who put us all through torture, trying to instill fear into everyone by making out how dangerous you are this year... but I don't want to hate you for being a murderer. Professor Dumbledore kept you in here, knowing that you are not going to turn out like Tom Riddle. So _don't_. Take it that I'm begging you."

Granger? Begging him?

"I don't know what's really going on. You're in alone on everything that's going on in your head. All I'm saying is – I'm not going to ask any questions or anything anymore. But – but if you need help, and that means help that doesn't involve me betraying my principles or the people I love, then I will help."

Help? Was this pity again?

"And it's not out of pity. You know I don't give a damn that you may be mourning for your father's death. You'd be sick not to want revenge for the way your father died."

"You know?" Draco finally found his voice, but it was incredulous when he spoke.

Hermione nodded. "Well, the basics. H... I wanted to know, so I asked Professor Dumbledore." She decided it was best not to implicate Harry or Professor McGonagall, because it was likely that the less people who knew the better, but Draco cringed, instantly feeling very vulnerable. "I'm sorry I'm so bloody inquisitive, but I'm just not going to sit around and watch as a dangerous person lurks in the halls of Hogwarts, waiting to pounce at any opportune moment." She felt a stab at her conscience for sounding so morally upright and heroic. "And I'm not going to watch you faint at every patrol duty or something."

"Dumbledore..." Draco growled, still breathing heavily. Coloured dots were exploding before him. _No, I can't black out again, not in front of Granger!_

"Don't blame him... he wanted to know if I was scared to patrol with you, so with what he said – it sort of allayed my fears."

"Allayed?" Draco glared at her, the coloured dots abruptly dissipating. "With that kind of circumstances in which my father was murdered, you can feel safer? What kind of monstrous being are you, Granger?"

"I'm human!" retorted Hermione. "So I can tell that even though you may be mean, you may be insulting, rude, spiteful, arrogant, the thing is – you're not evil! How can someone who is not inherently evil just obey an evil being's orders, who happens to be his enemy for killing his father, and not find out what were the true circumstances in which your father was killed? I said it once, I say it again, you're too proud for your own good – you're just trying to make yourself out to be this dangerous creature whom everyone should be afraid of just because you've that stupid Mark on your arm. At the same time, you're trying to avenge your father while trying to rise up the ranks of Death Eaters. You're trying to do everything alone, adopt all kinds of personalities and embark on all kinds of missions. That killing that you mentioned is probably a mission, and you'll probably do it just to get under the nose of Voldemort so that you can find out everything about your father's death and avenge him. So now I'm telling you, don't go down the path that led to your father's death. And don't become the monster who killed your father. There are other ways to do it, if only you'd let down your pride and let others help you make decisions you shouldn't be making yourself."

Draco was too exhausted from anger and too shocked from her speech to even reply. Staring at the ground, his mind whirled with a thousand questions. How could Hermione Granger know everything about him with the few insulting exchanges he had had with her? How could she completely understand what he was going through, what he was planning, when he had shared nothing from his head with her? She was – she was terrifying, he suddenly felt with a shudder. The whole cold and dangerous Death Eater mask had been pulled to shreds within minutes of her talk. All that was left was a shaking sixth-year Slytherin student, his bottom soaked and frozen to the bone from sitting in a snow patch.

When he lifted up his head again, his ears ringing from the last few words of Hermione Granger, he realised she was gone. He hadn't even heard her leave, but it was probably because he really couldn't hear anything else except for repeated phrases she had said, his father's voice, Voldemort's voice, Snape's voice, his mother's voice...

Draco gripped his head as he struggled to find his feet.

_How different are you from Voldemort?_

I don't want to hate you for being a murderer.

If you need help... then I will help.

There are other ways to do it, if only you'd let down your pride and let others help you make decisions you shouldn't be making yourself.

With an anguished howl, Draco sank to his knees again, cradling it, and for the first time in many many years, not even when his father had died, did the tears come rolling down his cheeks, fast and furious, a hollow, heartrending cry – full of pain and rage.


	9. The Greengrass Identity

**Disclaimer:** All characters listed here are the manifestation of Ms Rowling's creativity, I hereby only copyright any OOC, the Wentervales, and my new character Corrinne .

* * *

Hermione walked towards the Gryffindor common-room, dazed. Never in her life had she spoken so much to Draco Malfoy, and her heart was thumping crazily, which was very odd indeed. But what really stirred her was the image of him sitting in the snow, that pale face with a hollow expression, that muscular body now slack – like he had been deflated – yet heaving with a look of...

She couldn't really decipher it, but it felt like – a tinge of fear.

"Password please, Ms Granger, standing there won't really get you in," remarked the Fat Lady, drily. Hermione looked up, startled, and apologetically mumbled, "_Leaping Toadstool_", and the painting swung aside. As Hermione made her way in, her mind still tangled up with images of Draco Malfoy, she was suddenly enveloped in an air of silence. But it was not a cold one; it felt warm and tingly, like the aftermath of a celebration. Clearly, the Gryffindors were still celebrating their first Quidditch win of the season, but it seemed that it was not so much the euphoria of victory, but rather...

Harry and Ginny jumped apart, startled and embarrassed by Hermione's appearance, and there were sniggers and the last of wolfwhistles with amused looks. Ron was standing at a corner, rolling his eyes, and looking rather foolish. Hermione stared at them blankly.

"Erm, we, I..." Harry fumbled, as his arms untangled from around Ginny's waist and he stuffed his hands into his robe pockets quickly. "Well, I..."

"Hi, Hermione," said Ginny, as brightly as she could, but just as bright as the red that was rushing up her neck. "Where'd you go?"

"Oh, erm." Hermione raised her eyebrows at Ron, who gave a scowl in return. "I was – I was taking a stroll...the cheers made my ears ring, you know, so erm... did I interrupt anything?"

There were more sniggers from the small crowd. Harry and Ginny exchanged embarrassed looks, while Ron just sighed and shook his head.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"I missed it!" wailed Hermione. "I can't believe I missed it!"

"Merlin, what's there to see?" demanded Ron. "They were just sticking together like – Honeydukes!"

"Mate!" warned Harry, turning bright red. "You were alright..."

"I didn't say I'd be alright forever you know," muttered Ron, sulking. "Ginny herself hasn't even asked..."

"Asked what?" Ginny cut in, her face flaming. "Asked you for permission? Excuse me, I think I'm old enough to decide who I want to date or kiss, Ronald Bilius Weasley, you're not..."

"Mother? Well let me tell you, now that Fred and George aren't here, this makes me the eldest and the only other Weasley here to keep tabs on you," retorted Ron, his eyes bulging. "And so..."

"Erm okay, you guys can take this back to the Burrow," Hermione interjected hastily. "I'm sure Ron means to give you two his _full blessings_." She glared at Ron, who narrowed his eyes at her. "And I do too!" She finished, beaming.

Harry pushed his spectacles up awkwardly, and managed a smile.

"Thanks, Hermione," he said, while Ginny flung her arms around Hermione, beaming as well.

Hermione whispered in Ginny's ears just before letting go, "I'm so glad, Ginny, so glad!" And Ginny blushed before leaning back and slipping a hand into Harry's, eliciting another red flush up his neck.

"Fancy just jumping at each other when you've just won one match..."

"Ron!"

"Right, sorry," Ron grumbled. "I'm rather rattled that I didn't make any good saves today, except the one that nearly threw the Quaffle back into Slytherin's possession... I mean I thought I was doing awesome, did you see that little somersault I did at the start? Oh and that bloody Zabini, tried to knock me off my broom..."

"...and Corrinne nearly got us thrown out of the game!" cried Ginny, her smile fading into a cross look.

"Corrinne?" Hermione stared.

"She pushed Blaise Zabini towards the Bludger!" Ginny turned her fierce gaze onto Hermione. "It was a clear foul, but Madam Hooch didn't see it! I'm quite surprised Zabini was so easily pushed around."

"He's been rather peaky of late," reminded Harry. "Flu, remember?"

"Corrinne is dangerous on the pitch in the _wrong_ way," said Ginny, adamantly. "She's a good player, but she'll send us out of the Championships sooner or later. Look at how she was clawing at Malfoy just now!"

"But I'll have to admit, if not for her, Malfoy would have caught the Snitch before me," said Harry, cautiously.

The mention of 'Malfoy' jolted Hermione. Should she tell Harry?

"Speaking of Malfoy..." Harry looked over at Ginny, who nodded. "Oh I've told Ginny about the 'plan', I hope you don't mind." Hermione shook her head, managing a smile. "Well, you said he fainted yesterday during patrol; I was really surprised to see him line up with the Slytherins today. What's up with him?"

"Yeah, you didn't tell us why he fainted," said Ron. "You just said it wasn't serious."

"It wasn't," replied Hermione, coolly. "Like I told you, Snape came in to see him and then I wasn't allowed to stay there, so I don't really know what they said."

Ginny cast a glance at Hermione, but Hermione looked at Harry instead, who frowned. "This is not good. Snape and Malfoy's relationship deserve some looking into. So far what we've deduced is that Narcissa Malfoy swore Snape to an Unbreakable Vow to help Malfoy if the situation arises. It's clear Malfoy has a mission to kill someone, but we don't know who, except that it's more than likely this person is in Hogwarts. Malfoy's fainting might put him in a vulnerable position, and it's not a very favourable incident, I should think, Snape must be livid about it."

"Especially since I saw it," offered Hermione, trying not to bite her lip.

"Exactly," said Harry, nodding. "We currently have two theories – either Malfoy is going to take revenge for Lucius Malfoy, or he is going to further his father's legacy of being a successful Death Eater and become Voldemort's most loyal servant. Hermione, is there anything that he has hinted to you so far which suggests an inclination to either side?"

Hermione's forehead creased as she frowned. Should she tell him what Draco Malfoy had done to her in the Hospital Wing and earlier on – that was, to threaten to kill her? But if she did, Harry would stop her from attempting to liaise with Malfoy anymore. And somehow, after seeing that vulnerable image of Draco trembling in the snow, and after offering her help out of impulse, she couldn't just leave him alone. It was clear Draco was angry about his father's murder, he was furious about the way Lucius Malfoy had been murdered and he clearly didn't know much, or he would not have asked Snape about Maldash Wentervale. Then there was the whole business about Lanneria Wentervale and Jeremiah Greengrass.

_Greengrass?_ Seems to ring a bell...

Should she tell Harry that even though Malfoy was dangerous, he really wasn't inherently evil? Just because... her gut instincts told her so?

Even though the last few times, she had felt more than eager to report to Harry every behaviour of Malfoy and his expressions, his aura, his words... this time round, she felt tongue-tied. Her heart thumped again as the image of his eyes floated into her mind – those gray eyes, hard, but yet not cold, looking at her as he swooped past the Gryffindor crowd at the Quidditch match...

_Oh, Daphne Greengrass!_

"Hermione?"

She snapped back to reality. "Honestly, Harry, I can't put my finger to it... what I do feel is that Malfoy isn't really capable of killing anyone..."

"He has Snape!" cut in Ron, angrily. "That bloody ferret can do anything with the backing of Snape!"

Hermione could feel Ginny's cutting gaze fix on her from the side. She took a deep breath. "I need some more time. Malfoy's not easy to deal with even as a fellow student, okay?"

Ron instantly looked apologetic. "I'm sorry, Hermione, I didn't mean..."

She flashed him a smile. "It's okay."

As the boys left to go back to the common-room, Hermione was about to follow them, when Ginny motioned her to stay where they were, at the steps leading to the courtyard. Feeling uneasy, Hermione sent Ginny a questioning look.

"So," said Ginny, when the boys had disappeared from hearing distance. "What was the whole Maldash Wentervale thing about?"

Hermione stared. "What?"

"I thought you heard it from Parvati or Lavender!" cried Ginny. "I could scarcely believe that already – they're also sworn to secrecy by their parents, because all wizarding families can't be blabbering about this even in gossip, I only decided to tell you more because you're the smartest girl in Hogwarts, and you're helping Harry against Malfoy, so I thought you ought to know about this!"

Hermione's insides were churning. "Ginny..."

Ginny folded her arms. "You must have heard it from Malfoy!" she said, accusingly. "It just fell into place just now; you didn't hear what Snape and Malfoy were talking about? I don't believe that – I could tell you were lying. You're terrible at lying, Hermione. After you came out from the Hospital Wing, you met me and asked me straight away about Wentervale. And I don't believe you learnt Occlumency on your own for nothing – surely you blocked out your thoughts from Snape and..."

"Ginny, I'm sorry, just give me some time okay?" Hermione massaged her temples. "Yes, I heard it from Malfoy asking Snape about him." She winced as Ginny glared at her. "Look, I want to find out more before I report anything to Harry. Knowing that the guy Professor McGonagall was telling us about was Maldash Wentervale doesn't help in anything. It just means Malfoy is interested in knowing more about this guy. Snape himself didn't answer him at all, I swear, that's why I had to ask you instead..."

She paused. Leaving out the Greengrass part would probably be safer. "There's something more to it than just that – so let me find it out first okay? Harry doesn't even know who he is because nobody told him either, right? I don't want Harry to be jumping in onto this so excitedly and pressing me to go faster. As a matter of fact, I'm quite sick of Draco Malfoy at the moment."

Which was true. Images of him kept popping up in her mind relentlessly.

"Has he been horribly mean?" Ginny's accusatory tone melted into a worried one.

"Mudblood this, Mudblood that," muttered Hermione. "Nothing new."

"Then you take your time," said Ginny, firmly. "I'll talk to Harry and make sure he doesn't push you with this. You're doing this for him, he should be more appreciative."

"I'm sure he is, Ginny," said Hermione, tiredly. "Just... just don't mention Wentervale for the moment. And don't tell him Malfoy's been insulting the hell out of me. You know how impulsive Harry is."

"Alright," mused Ginny, doubtfully. "But you _must_ let us know if things get dangerous. Malfoy isn't one to be trifled with, wand, brain, Dark Mark and all. And let me know if you find out what he's trying to know about Wentervale. I'll see if I can help."

"Thanks Ginny," replied Hermione, flashing her a grateful look.

Then she thought of Malfoy again, and sighed.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Draco stared at the empty fireplace, his mind chock full of images, thoughts, sounds... it was a horrible mess and cacophony rolled into one, accumulating into a terrible headache that was pounding mercilessly within his head. Wincing, he leant back against the armchair. Somehow the sobbing had taken some load off him, but it was only temporary. The moment he stepped into the Slytherin common-room and remembered who he was supposed to look for, everything came rushing back again.

The sound of the portrait sliding past to allow a Slytherin into the common-room reverberated around the quiet common-room. An auburn-haired girl stepped in, and stared around the room curiously. Her sparkling green eyes roved around and halted upon the figure of Draco Malfoy staring stonily at the empty fireplace.

"Where's everybody?" Her clear voice rang out.

Draco turned and almost leapt out of his seat upon seeing the girl. But then he blinked, and realised she wasn't really the one he was looking for. "Theo's got a new broom, they're all watching him try it out."

"Fancy," she said with a snort, tossing her wavy hair. "Just because it's the newest Firebolt series doesn't mean he has to parade it around. And you," she glared accusingly at Draco, who was rather taken aback at being the focus of her annoyance, "are not much better when you get a new broom."

Draco just stared at her.

"What's the use of getting a new broom when you can't even catch the bloody Snitch?" she continued, sneering. Something in Draco flared, and he got up and fixed his gray eyes on her coldly. "Astoria Greengrass, I don't suppose you really have any right to be insulting me, especially when you're only a fourth-year?"

"I could be speaking on behalf of my sister," said Astoria, shrugging, her auburn hair rippling across her shoulders. "Or perhaps the entire Slytherin House."

Draco scowled. Somehow he was rather impressed that this girl was able to stand up to him and mock him, whilst everyone else in Slytherin House was always avoiding him (even Astoria's sister)... Pansy would be an exception if not for the fact that she was always asking about how he was going to accomplish his mission and so forth. The Parkinsons did not take sides outright, but they leaned towards the Dark Lord's ideas, and Pansy was torn between being both thrilled and wary about Draco becoming a Death Eater. He appreciated Pansy's sharpness, but really wasn't about to let her know anything.

_Damn, this is the second girl I'm getting impressed by..._ his thoughts suddenly drifted to Hermione Granger. But she was different from Astoria. How different? Astoria was definitely more beautiful. Her green eyes were almost alluring, her hair a perfect shade of reddish-brown, her voice clear as crystal – almost the perfect pureblood. As for Granger, well, it wasn't about her looks for sure, but...

Staring at Astoria, who was now rather frustrated that he was staring at her, he suddenly realised. He didn't have to wait for Daphne Greengrass, he could always...

"How is Jeremiah Greengrass related to you?" Draco asked, without thinking, then realised he should have been more subtle, and cursed inwardly.

Now it was Astoria's turn to stare at him. "What's that got to do with you?"

The wheels in Draco's mind turned crazily. "I – know his secret."

Astoria suddenly froze. Something clicked in Draco's mind. Jeremiah Greengrass must have something to hide.

"What do you know?" she whispered, her crystal-clear voice now shaking.

There was nothing Draco knew about Jeremiah Greengrass except that his wife was Lanneria Wentervale. Astoria would laugh at him if he said that, and the baby steps to his plan would fall flat. Yet, something in him was egging him on, besides, his mind wasn't unable to smoke through the fact that he only knew one thing. "I know about – his wife," said Draco, feeling foolish. "Lanneria Wentervale."

To Draco's surprise (not that he showed it), Astoria's face turned white. She stumbled backwards a bit.

"You couldn't have known..." she whispered, clearly in shock.

Draco was confused. What was so shocking about knowing who Lanneria Wentervale was?

Then it dawned upon him. Nobody should have known that Lanneria Wentervale existed. Everybody in the wizarding world knew about Maldash Wentervale, and to Voldemort's allies, he was dangerous and dastardly. If anybody was close to Wentervale, surely they would have been eliminated. Therefore, Lanneria, as his half-sister, should also have been hauled in for interrogation, and subsequently... yet, if that was the case, then how did Snape know...?

"You haven't replied me," said Draco, curling his lip for effect. "How is he related to you?"

Astoria's eyes narrowed. "I'm not telling you."

Draco snarled and rolled up his sleeve fiercely. The repulsive black mass on his forearm was shocking, and Astoria took another step backwards, her eyes filled with horror. The Greengrass family were not Death Eaters, neither did they take sides, so it was still quite a shock for Astoria to see the Dark Mark staring up at her in real life. "I'm not going to hurt you, Astoria, as long as you tell me the truth. I can promise not to tell the Dark Lord about this if you cooperate, but if you don't..." He left the sentence hanging like a death sentence.

Astoria stared. "He can't tell that you know about this?"

Draco cursed inwardly again. "That's none of your business. Even if he can tell, it already means Lanneria and Jeremiah are dead meat because the Dark Lord can find out their relation to you faster than you are going to tell me."

"You need to tell me why you need to know this for, and how you knew about this," replied Astoria, trembling. "Or else I'd be betraying them."

_Damn, this girl is sharp all right._

Draco didn't know whether to trust her.

"As you have already pointed out, it doesn't make a difference whether I tell you or not, since I can't tell if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named knows about this already," said Astoria, as coolly as she could manage. "If you refuse to tell me what I want to know, then I'm sorry I'm of no help to you either."

Draco stared after her as she tossed her auburn hair and stalked to the staircase winding downwards to the girls' dormitory. Gritting his teeth, he fell back into the armchair. His fists were clenched and shaking. _I was so close to knowing the truth!_

At any case, he had found out that Lanneria Wentervale must be hiding behind a new identity, and it was quite likely that she must know where Maldash Wentervale was. If he could track her down, perhaps he could find out where this man was, and learn what made Lucius let him go, resulting in his murder. Perhaps, he could also find out the secrets... what exactly did Lucius mean by _seven cuts across him, labyrinth, ring and all_?

But to his dismay, he couldn't figure out – for the life of him – how he would convince Lanneria Wentervale to tell him the whereabouts of her half-brother.

Even worse – how on earth was he going to track her down in the first place?

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Hermione walked down the area to the frozen lake, where a few people were skating across it with glee. There was no more snow, the weather was less freezing, and the holes that were starting to appear at the corner of the lake were surely signs of a warmer temperature to come.

Her sharp eyes scanned the perimeter of the lake. She always saw Daphne Greengrass with a few of her Slytherin girlfriends sitting under a tree, laughing at some of the Slytherin boys who were attempting to attract them with their pathetic stunts on ice. It seemed that Pansy Parkinson no longer hung around them as leader... but Hermione couldn't be bothered to think about Pansy at the moment.

Hermione saw one of the skaters trip after a ridiculous spin, and a fresh burst of tinkling laughter came, drawing her attention to a bunch of girls sitting under a bare tree.

She walked closer, but noticed that Daphne Greengrass was not there. Frowning, she began to walk towards the bunch, but was stopped by a figure who was sauntering down the icy slope. Daphne Greengrass' brown hair was darker than Hermione's, but they had a lovely wave that her curls could never achieve, which Hermione privately acknowledged she was jealous of. Upon seeing Hermione, Daphne's face contorted into a scowl.

"What are you doing, staring at my girlfriends from afar, _Mudblood_? Jealous of them?"

_Hell no_, Hermione scowled back. For some reason, when the derogatory term was used by the other Slytherins, it seemed so petty compared to –

"Or you want to take points from us for a ridiculous reason that you're about to spin? Want me to help you with it?"

"Why would I be jealous of you and your girlfriends when all you all do is to while away your time flirting with boys who cannot even balance on ice?" asked Hermione, rolling her eyes as Theodore Nott attempted another spin and fell flat on his face, eliciting another string of giggles from the girls.

"Well, it's okay if Theo's not good on ice, he was marvellous with his broom just now," said Daphne, airily. "And he's going to try out for Seeker in the next trial, so you might want to tell Potter the Potty to be a bit careful! Today's win was just a fluke, so watch your back!"

_Theo is trying out for Seeker? What about Malfoy?_ But Hermione shook the thought off. Something on Daphne's neck was gleaming and Hermione frowned when she saw it.

"Jewelry's illegal during school hours, Greengrass, I thought you'd be aware of the basic reasons why I should take points off Slytherin instead of trying to think up creative ones for me. Five points off!"

Daphne's pompous look turned into that of anger. "It's not jewelry, you nitwit, it's a family heirloom, so get off my back if you know nothing. You can check with Professor Snape." Her voice turned sweet and sticky. "I got permission from him."

Hermione had no intention of looking to Snape for a little thing like that. "Whoever gave it to you must have had bad taste – it's such a pretty thing placed on an airhead." She was a bit stunned at how brazen she was, but Daphne's attitude was really annoying her.

Daphne turned crimson. "Insult me if you want, don't insult my Grandma Lily!" Her shouts drew the attention of everyone around, who were now staring at her and Hermione.

_Lily_. Harry's mother's name. Hermione could imagine Harry cringing at his mother's namesake being one of the Greengrasses, who couldn't possibly be any better than the girl standing in front of her.

"Hey Daph!" shouted Theodore, clambering up from the ice. "You should tell your Grandma to change her name. It's Potter's mother's name! Such blasphemy!"

Hermione's face grew hot with anger. How dare he...

"I told her to!" cried Daphne, in a nasal voice. "What with Grandpa's name sounding like Potter's father as well, when I hear it I feel as if the Potters were transplanted into my household, it's absolutely infuriating." She glared at Hermione, with an odd look of triumph mixed into it. "_James_ and _Lily_ Potter. Absolute filth compared to _Jeremiah_ and _Lily_ Greengrass!"

_Jeremiah Greengrass._

Hermione could feel her heart thumping wildly.

_Jeremiah and Lily Greengrass... Jeremiah and Lanneria... wait - unless..._

She turned away, sick to the stomach with Daphne's insults, and yet, a mad flow of adrenaline rushing through her. She had to find Draco Malfoy... she had to find him. Now.

"Bye, _Mudblood_, you ought to repeat word for word to Potter about this!" shouted Daphne after her, her sickly sweet voice revolting. "Oh and I heard he just got himself a girlfriend, hasn't he? That carrot-head blood traitor of a Weasley. Mind they don't end up procreating some freakazoid!" She burst into hyena-like laughter, whilst the other girls clambered up to her excitedly. "Potter's got a girlfriend? The Weasley girl? Are you serious...!"

Hermione tried to block out all of the insults, her walk breaking into a run, and she sped through the hallways of Hogwarts.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Astoria fingered the chain around her neck, lifting it up above her face to see the sparkle of the jewel as she lay flat on her bed. The beautifully crafted emerald was clutched in silver claws, and it sparkled and swirled with glittery lines. She ran a thumb over the jewel and sighed. It made her think of the person who gave it to her.

She remembered her grandmother slipping the chains over the necks of her sister and her, whispering urgently they must never take it off for their own safety, and that things had been explained to the Headmaster to allow them to wear it. Professor Dumbledore had not publicised the matter, only telling Astoria and Daphne to refer anybody who objected to their wearing of the chain to their Head of House, Professor Snape, and to refer to the jewel as a family heirloom. It would seem as though they were just taking precautions against the boy who would most likely become a Death-Eater within the walls of Hogwarts – Draco Malfoy.

But it was more than that.

Still, it seemed as though the excuse would prove true after all. Draco Malfoy was dangerous. Anybody who knew was dangerous.

Why did things have to turn out this way?

The door swung open to reveal giggles and laughter. Astoria looked up and saw her sister saunter in with some of the fifth- and sixth-year Slytherin girls. Upon seeing Astoria, Daphne squealed and flounced over to Astoria's bed, eyeing her sister gleefully. "Did you hear the news? That Potter has a girlfriend?"

"Girlfriend?" Astoria raised her eyebrows. "No."

"It's that Weasley girl," smirked Daphne. "Oh what fodder for the gossip mill! I'm itching to..."

"Break them up?" Astoria threw her sister a disgusted look. "Daph, don't you have better things to do?"

"Not really," sniffed Daphne. "Unless you count arguing with that Mudblood of a Granger. Do you know what that horrible girl did just now? She insulted Grandma Lily in front of me!"

Astoria's heart skipped a beat. "What? What did she say?"

"She said whoever gave me our jewel had no taste to give it to me," scoffed Daphne. "So I retaliated and said that it's such an insult Potter's parents have similar names to our grandparents. James and Lily Potter – complete filth compared to Jeremiah and Lily Greengrass. That's exactly what I said. Took the wind out of her sails, I should think."

_She was insulting YOU, you stupid girl_, thought Astoria. However, she took hold of Daphne's hand suddenly, startling her sister.

"We should stop mentioning our grandparents too much, Daph," she said, in a low voice. "Somebody's bound to find out sooner or later."

"Like who?" demanded Daphne, suddenly quieter.

Astoria figured it was best not to frighten Daphne, so she merely said, "We just have to be careful. Like Draco Malfoy is in our House, that's a good enough reason. If he finds out, we're all dead meat."

Daphne rolled her eyes. "I'm not stupid, Ria," she said, and left to go to her bed.

Astoria stared after her sister, her heart sinking. They were already pretty much going to be – dead meat.


	10. Strawberry Scent

**Disclaimer:** If I had the talent of Miss Rowling, I would add onto the Harry Potter books the dimension of Draco Malfoy all DMHG fans love ;) the hot, brooding, snarling, yet full of layers that need Hermione Granger's intelligence and intuition to peel off slowly (:

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews again, hope they keep coming in! Let me know what you think of this one. The plot's getting thicker. Enjoy! (:

* * *

There were no lessons with the Slytherins on her timetable, and it would be far from wise to go anywhere near the Slytherin common-room, so Hermione had to endure an excruciating wait till after supper for patrol to commence. Praying fervently that Draco Malfoy wouldn't be suddenly overcome with sickness or a bout of rebelliousness that would render his absence from patrol, she had arrived at the corridor early to catch him immediately.

She lounged near the banisters, so that the students would figure out that she was not out to gain extra credits just by coming early for patrol. In her mind, she saw the figure of Draco Malfoy swooping past the Gryffindor stands in the Quidditch match once again, and she bit her lip. Was she doing the right thing by acting on her own accord without telling Harry what had really happened? On one hand, she knew Harry and Ron would turn purple and blow up at her for trying to take risks without letting them know. They were her best friends; how could she keep them in the dark? They were bound to find out sooner or later that Hermione was acting on her own. On the other hand, Hermione could envision Harry getting all worked up if she let out that Malfoy had threatened to kill her, and he would stop her from trying to weasel out more information from him. And if Hermione was not successful, Harry or Ron would probably be even less successful, given the degree of tolerance both boys had.

She sighed in frustration and paced towards her end of the corridor. That was how they patrolled – _his_ end and _her_ end. It was like a Chinese saying that went 'the well water does not offend the river water'; both waterways just wouldn't meet. But Hermione refused to believe what the Daily Prophet had published – that Draco Malfoy was becoming a Death Eater to carry on his father's legacy. Yes, Malfoy had been Harry's nemesis from day one, but as she had said, she somehow didn't believe he was inherently evil.

Not that she really knew why she had that feeling.

She could hear voices at the far end, and she turned around casually.

Draco Malfoy had appeared at the other end of the corridor.

But he was not facing her. Behind him followed Pansy Parkinson, and she was talking about something incessantly. Suddenly, Draco wound around and glared at Pansy, causing the black-haired girl to shrink back, then turn on her heels and walk away briskly. Draco's head turned, and his sharp eyes landed on Hermione, who was trying to look as innocent as possible as she stared at him from the distance.

"Eavesdropping again, are you, Granger?" demanded Draco, angrily, walking briskly towards her so that she could hear him clearly.

"Can't hear a thing if I'm standing here, so you don't have to be so uptight," said Hermione, shrugging her shoulders, though she could barely contain her excitement at having found out something Draco needed to know, and the words were threatening to spill out of her mouth. But she couldn't resist giving him a dig or two before she made her announcement.

Draco gave her a piercing glare, before he swung around to walk towards the end of the corridor which he usually took charge of. Standing at opposite ends of the corridor would be the best way to patrol with Hermione Granger, since he couldn't help feeling incomprehensibly frustrated whenever his eyes set upon her.

"I have something to tell you."

"What does the sneaky little Mudblood have to tell?" shot back Draco, turning around and giving her an icy look. He didn't feel like talking to Hermione at all, especially not after he seemed to behave like a small kid in front of her at the Quidditch stadium.

"I said I would help, alright?" Hermione glared back at him. "I just wanted to tell you I found out who Jeremiah..."

"_Silencio!_" Draco whipped his wand out faster than Hermione could defend herself, though his wand was still partially shielded by his robes. She found herself opening her mouth with no words coming out. Rage was about to overtake her senses when Draco shoved his wand back into his pocket hurriedly so that no one would notice. His gaze was more penetrating than ever.

"Shut your trap, Granger," he hissed. "Some things are not meant to be said out in the open. Library, after this, far end. Not a word more, you know what I'm capable of."

He said it in such an authoritative and furious manner that Hermione didn't feel like shouting back when he reversed the spell, and she felt her voice coming back. Scowling, she turned her back on him and proceeded to the other end of the corridor.

"Stupid, ungrateful ferret!"

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Draco put his legs on the table as he leant back on the armchair. This corner was almost his royal throne; everybody knew Draco Malfoy liked to sit in this corner, and dared not venture towards those few pieces of furniture. There were only two other people in the library, and they were all clustered near the entrance. Hermione Granger, he knew, sat in the centre of the library, so that she could have easy access to all the resources. But that was because she came to the library to research. He came to the library – for peace.

Every night he had nightmares. His father's desperate pleas, the parchment with the poem chanting aloud in his dream, his mother's incessant weeping, the Dark Lord's deathly voice, Snape's barking, Corrinne Whitemayer pointing the wand at him with her red eyes burning, Astoria Greengrass and her beautiful face contorting into a smirk and saying 'Too bad', even Granger, with the brown curls and soft eyes that lost the look of pity, but took on a rather determined, almost feisty character of its own...

He shook his head. He had a lot to do. Too many, in fact. But he had barely taken the first step.

Pansy had ditched her earlier reticence in dealing with him, and had been at his ear lately going on and on about how he had to lie low and not make himself the spotlight with his bad temper towards everyone. Everytime he stepped into the Slytherin common-room, there would be a hush and only the sixth-years closer to him would venture to speak to him. The way he glared around the room didn't help matters much. Blaise had come back from the Hospital Wing, but was strangely subdued. Crabbe and Goyle were starting to shy away from him as much as possible. Or perhaps, it was the other way round. Pansy had insisted that the more he shied away from everyone and became aloof, the more his Death Eater status would be noticeable and everyone would put their guard up against him.

Draco had retorted that that was probably what he really wanted: to have everyone take notice of him.

Pansy had argued that he was not going to accomplish what the Dark Lord wanted him to do. Even though she was not part of the Death Eaters, she was clearly intrigued by Dark Magic, and occasionally dropped questions to Draco about what it was like being a Death-Eater. She often got no response, to her chagrin.

His fists were clenched. He straightened his back.

His first mission. He had plenty of time to execute it. But what he needed wasn't time; he needed the plan, and the guts to do it. He knew he didn't have the skills for it, so he needed a well thought-out plan that could lead him to accomplish it. He wanted to make it obvious that he had something planned, and then deal a heavier blow through means that nobody could guess. This way, the Dark Lord would trust him. But it was difficult – knowing that accomplishing his first mission and gaining the trust of the Dark Lord would take some time, whereas finding Maldash Wentervale was urgent – if he didn't get to Wentervale first, the Dark Lord would.

Draco cursed softly. This meant that he had to complete his first task earlier than he had predicted. He was past thinking about whether he should do it – he would regret it if he did, but yet he would also regret it if he didn't. All this emotional turmoil was taking a toll on him.

_Two, two, and three strides._

"What the hell does this mean?" Draco whispered to no one.

He slumped back into the armchair, feeling himself deflate.

Soft footsteps were approaching.

Draco sat up straight and adopted a lazy-looking stance facing the window as Hermione stepped into his 'territory', looking obviously uneasy.

"You have permission." He shrugged his shoulders, and Hermione glared at him as she sat down in the chair opposite him, and produced a whole lot of books on the table.

"And I was going to say sorry for being late, maybe I should take that back!"

Draco did not move an inch. "Busy snogging Weasley?"

Hermione looked offended. "Very funny. I just thought maybe the books might make our meeting look a bit more academic, rather than anything else."

Draco didn't say anything, although he secretly thought that was a smart move to avoid any possible gossip.

There was an awkward silence.

"So, are you done being a sneak?" he said at last, running his fingers through his styled hair.

"What?" Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"You know, you and I both don't really have a conversation topic that runs along the lines of 'Jeremiah'," said Draco, his eyes still trained on the window. "So maybe you should just pull your nose out of my business and carry on with your goody-two-shoes life." He suddenly turned his fierce gaze onto Hermione, causing her to shrink back a bit. "And I mean it."

Hermione caught her breath and stared at him defiantly. "I know who Jeremiah Greengrass and Lanneria Wentervale are."

Draco instantly froze. _How did she know?_

Then he relaxed and chuckled. "So who are they?"

"Don't think I'm stupid," snapped Hermione. "I'm not going to let you get away with the answer so easily!" Then she lowered her voice. "You're trying to look for Lanneria Wentervale so that you can find out where her half-brother is. So that you can find out what happened to your father. But I was thinking about it – and you ought to – don't you think Voldemort will find out what you're doing? You could be killed before this happened!"

"That's my business!" hissed Draco, turning rigid again. "And you could be killed before you get to know what happens to me if you meddle anymore. Now just tell me and there's nothing more that I will tell you!"

"Then there's no reason for me telling you," said Hermione, huffily. "Because you're just putting yourself in danger!"

"And since when did you care so bloody much, _Mudblood_!" The word slipped out of his mouth again, almost smoothly, covered with a thick layer of spite. Hermione flinched, but her defiant expression remained.

"I said I would help."

"I don't need your bloody help," retorted Draco, with a snort. "Who are you, to help a Death Eater? Hermione Granger, you can be so meddlesome and confused to help someone who is a potential murderer. Or perhaps, even already one." He curled his lip, and she flinched again. Somehow he didn't really see a lot of joy in seeing her do that, even though it used to thrill him when others flinched at the sight of him.

There was silence once again.

Suddenly, there was a shuffle, and then the click of heels began to approach them. "Mr Malfoy and Miss Granger, it's past library hours! What could the two of you be possibly doing at this hour..."

"Madam Pince!" whispered Hermione, in horror, almost leaping out of her seat . "I forgot about her, let's go!"

"Stop panicking, Granger," said Draco, lazily, and he took out his wand and waved it, muttering under his breath.

Instantly, he felt as if somebody had cracked a raw egg above his head. The wet and smooth feeling simmered at his head, before running downwards all over his body. In front of him, Hermione's mouth was in a large 'O', as she cringed as an invisible liquid flowed from her head to her body, rendering her the same colour as the shelf of books behind her, complete with the different colours of book covers. Quickly, he took the stack of books Hermione had left on the table and shoved it behind his seat.

Madam Pince came up to the corner and stared. The light in this corner was not as bright as the main reading area, and she pushed up her pince-nez, but it was quite clear that there was not a soul.

"Did they leave? I never noticed!" she exclaimed under her breath. Then with a vehement 'hrrumph!' she turned around and walked off, switching off the lights with her wand as she went. Draco held his breath until from a distance, he heard a 'click!' and he knew the library doors were shut.

He waved his wand about in the darkness, and then suddenly there was a loud squeal, which he hastened to silence. However, he was momentarily blinded by a sudden light shooting out from Hermione's wand to illuminate her face, which was an expression of anger and curiosity all mixed into it.

"You cast a _Disillusionment Charm_?" Hermione stared at him, incredulously.

Draco shrugged his shoulders.

"But... that's Advanced Charms!" She faltered, looking bewildered. Draco smirked, feeling a little swell of arrogance. His father had taught him many things that students of his age had yet to know.

His father... Draco closed his eyes.

"Wind gone out of your sails, hasn't it, Granger? That somebody knows more than you?" He sneered.

Hermione sank back into her chair, shaking her head in disbelief.

Draco stopped smirking; he cast _Lumos_ with his wand as well and placed it on the table.

"Look, we can make things simple. All you have to do is tell me what you've found out, and then you can go on being Potter's walking encyclopaedia, alive and kicking." He lowered his head. Then when he raised it, his eyes were different – almost, soft. Hermione felt herself drawn into those gray circles. "I told you I won't kill you." Then he chuckled, a little mockingly. "So that I won't become a copy of my father's killer, huh. I just told you I won't kill you as long as you don't stand in my way. Don't think I've softened, Granger."

Hermione fought hard not to keep staring at his eyes. "Fine. I'll just tell you. I said I would help, didn't I?"

Draco leant back again. "I'm all ears, Miss Benevolent."

Hermione scowled. "They're the Greengrass girls' grandparents."

"_Grandparents?_" Draco hadn't really been expecting that. "Where'd you hear that from?"

"Daphne Greengrass."

Draco let out a low whistle. He should have just waited for the hare-brained older sister to appear, instead of having to deal with the sharp Astoria.

"She let it out indirectly, and I put two and two together. Apparently their grandparents are Jeremiah and Lily Greengrass, and she was going on about how it's an insult how Harry's parents have similar names," Hermione gritted her teeth. "And since Jeremiah Greengrass' wife is Lanneria Wentervale, and it is likely she had to adopt a new identity to escape capture after Maldash ran away, I'm guessing Lily Greengrass is Lanneria Wentervale."

_Impressive_, thought Draco. His expression remained impassive. "Alright then, that's all for tonight I suppose."

He got ready to stand up, but Hermione remained seated. He stared at her. "Aren't you going back to be your goody-two-shoes? Not afraid Potty and the Weasel will turn Hogwarts upside down looking for you?"

"I told them I had a research project to do in the library," she said, quietly, staring at the table. "With Madam Pince's permission."

"You lied to them?" He looked at her incredulously.

"How're you going to find Jeremiah and Lily Greengrass in the first place?" asked Hermione, ignoring his question and looking back up at him. "I don't think the Greengrasses are that chummy to let you go over to their place or something."

Draco jerked involuntarily. It was really not wise to be taking only one step at a time. He remembered how curt Astoria was towards him as soon as she found out that he knew about her grandmother, and scowled. "So know-it-all Granger has a plan?" he asked, skeptically.

Hermione paused. Then she let out a little smile. "Yeah, I think so."

Draco's scowl vanished. He stared at her, amazed. "What?"

"I said I have a plan." She had a rather wicked look on her face that startled Draco. It was quite un-Hermione to look that way. Glaring at her, he bent over and his gray eyes were just centimetres away from her brown ones. He was about to say something spiteful, but then the words didn't come out. Hermione was so taken aback by his sudden movement that she gaped a little, her breath escaping her lips in a puff.

Draco raised an eyebrow as he stared at her gleaming lips. _She's wearing scented lip gloss?_ The smell of strawberry wafted up his nose and his glare suddenly faltered a little.

Hermione's heart was racing as she stared into his gray eyes. They were no longer stone cold. What started out as a fierce glare was suddenly replaced by a shine, that took her by surprise. _He's... looking at me._

She jerked, breaking the trance as he hurriedly withdrew, looking away. She quickly turned her gaze back to the table. When their eyes met again, Hermione saw the harshness come back into Draco's eyes.

"I'm not going to go with some stupid plan of yours," he muttered rudely, and was about to turn away when Hermione leapt up and grabbed his arm.

Draco felt his arm tingle, and he gasped, instinctively shaking her arm off. Hermione was flabbergasted by her boldness, and was inwardly glad for the semi-darkness to hide what must have been a deep flush rising up her neck.

"What the hell are you doing, Granger?" he snapped at her angrily.

"Look, don't act so cool when you don't have much options left," said Hermione, clearly agitated. "And – I don't even know why I want to help you okay, maybe it's just because I don't want to see somebody who's not supposed to be a murderer become one, maybe I'm just scared that if I let you do your own things, you're going to hurt my friends, maybe I'm just selfish okay, I just..." She broke off, heaving. Draco almost thought she was about to cry. "I just don't want you to hurt Harry."

Draco felt heat rise in him. "So this is all about Potter?" he scoffed.

"No, not exactly," mumbled Hermione. "I mean, I'm scared that you being in Hogwarts is going to hurt somebody okay, I'm not going to pretend that you're some pseudo Death Eater, you ARE one." Draco was momentarily surprised by her vehemence and directness. "And the student that Voldemort wants to kill most is Harry, who is protected by Hogwarts' magic, so only someone within these walls can kill him. And that's you. But that's not all."

Draco didn't say anything. He just plastered his usual smirk on his face, which under the pale glow of the moonlight streaming in from the window, looked rather sinister. Hermione swallowed and continued.

"You – you probably don't have much time to think through the missions Voldemort gives you if you're going to pursue the matter of your father's death at the same time. I don't want to see you just killing somebody who doesn't matter to you so that you can go avenge the person who matters to you. It shouldn't be like that."

"You're such a saint, Granger," Draco said with a snort. "'Shouldn't be like that?' You should go tell that to all the murderers in Azkaban who killed for revenge. Let's see if they break down and cry and beg for forgiveness, or they'd just laugh maniacally at you like you're the joke of the season!"

"So you are supposed to kill Harry then?" Hermione's voice was trembling as Draco looked away.

"Well, Potter's not going to live long. Whether I'm to do it, or the Dark Lord wants to perform the deed himself, I wouldn't know."

"Voldemort must have given you a mission at your induction. If it's not killing Harry, what is it?"

"Granger, stop prying!" Draco spun around and grabbed her shoulders, shaking her so hard till her teeth rattled in her head.

"Just answer me, and I'll tell you how the plan goes, alright?" whispered Hermione faintly, becoming limp in his grip.

Draco stared at her pleading eyes in disbelief, then he dropped her instantly, feeling disgusted – he wasn't sure where this emotion had emanated from. Hermione sank to the carpeted floor weakly. She was clearly getting drained, what with arguing with Draco Malfoy, churning up plans in her head, having to deal with his insults, and then the way his eyes – the way they escalated her heartbeat so rapidly...

"I'm to kill Dumbledore."

Those few words were uttered so simply.

Hermione stared at the back of him, stricken.

Draco's fists were trembling.

"You can't," whispered Hermione, aghast.

"I can do anything," shot back Draco, icily, turning around once again to meet the shocked look of Hermione Granger.

"Not without help."

"In killing Dumbledore?" Draco's voice was incredulous.

"NO!" shouted Hermione, angrily, and Draco growled menacingly at her for making such a ruckus. "I meant to find out what happened to your father."

Draco tried to breathe normally. He couldn't risk having Hermione Granger know so much about him. He couldn't risk her helping him; the Dark Lord would find out he was onto something sooner or later, and halt his life before he could even carry out any plans. Hell, the Dark Lord would halt _her_ life as well; why should she even bother doing anything for him? He looked at her with a tinge of suspicion: was she trying to find out something about him? Was she doing this so he would soften and not kill Potter?

Yet, as he stared at her heaving figure, he couldn't help realising it was impossible for him to do anything alone. He couldn't even get information out of a fourth-year, _damn it!_ And Hermione Granger had just caught the information from Daphne Greengrass _indirectly_. Snape was clearly unwilling to aid him much other than to teach him basic defence skills and to jump to his rescue only when things turned ugly. Hermione Granger was the one with the plans, the plans that he was struggling to churn up because his mind was so bogged down by thoughts. Whether or not this was about Potter was actually not very important to him at the moment; all he wanted to do was to find out the circumstances of his father's death – and...

"What's your plan?" he said, at last, in the most civil voice he could manage.

"You're willing to let me help?"

"Granger, don't push it," snarled Draco. "I'm sick and tired of you pestering me. And I figure you've got the brains to do things, so let's just leave it as that. If you get killed in the midst of this whole thing, don't say I didn't warn you."

His words were brutal, harsh, but Hermione's ears caught the phrase 'you've got the brains' and wondered if that was a genuine compliment.

"The Greengrass sisters have a pendant each, given by Lily Greengrass, which is supposed to be a family heirloom. They've been given permission by Professor Snape to wear it," she said, eyeing him, and he raised his eyebrows at the mention of Snape. "I'm presuming that it's quite important, and might have something to do with the fact that Lily Greengrass is afraid her granddaughters may be targeted in school if her identity is exposed."

"What are you suggesting?" Draco narrowed his eyes at her.

Hermione's heart was beating faster than ever. She didn't know why she was willing to carry out such a bold plan. Neither did she know why she was getting herself into this mess. Sooner or later, she would have to let Harry know what she was on – yes, she would be at such an important point whereby Harry could not refuse to let her carry on if he wanted to know more, but yet – as Draco's gray eyes fixed on her, and she felt herself drawn in again by the shine in his eyes – she would almost be betraying him...

She swallowed hard again, and then closed her eyes.

When she opened them, she saw Draco with his familiar smirk. He had apparently figured it out.

"My, my," he chuckled, his eyes dancing with mirth. "I can't believe prim-and-proper Granger could come up with such a plan."

Hermione blushed, and was once again thankful for the lack of bright lights at where they were. "Now let's get out of here, shall we?"

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Astoria rubbed her eyes and stretched, as the girls around her were clambering out of their beds. A glimpse of the dawn light peeked through their curtains as they started to dress for breakfast. With her eyes half-open, she pulled out her robes from the cupboard in a languid manner, and tumbled onto the bed, her hand absent-mindedly patting about the inner lining of the robes.

She shot up straight, eyes wide open, as her fingers moved rapidly in the lining of the robes. Her eyebrows knotting together, she leapt up and started to open her drawers. She bent over and raised her bedcovers, peeked under the bed, dove to the bottom of the cupboard and flung out the bags there. Her hands ran over all the clothes hung above, turned around and banged her pillow.

"What's going on?" demanded Millicent Bulstrode, disgustedly, as Astoria tossed aside the pillow and it narrowly missed her.

Astoria was about to shoot back a cutting word, when Daphne flew over to her bed, her face ashen-coloured.

Both girls stared at each other, a growing look of despair coming over their faces.

"I c-can't..." Daphne stuttered.

"Professor Snape," Astoria whispered. "Now."


	11. Lyrics of Mysteries

The week was almost over, but the Gryffindor and Slytherin students had yet to have their first Defence Against the Dark Arts class till now. Entering the classroom, Harry was clearly fidgety and glum to be facing Severus Snape in his favourite class, while Ron was looking shiftily at the teacher's desk. Hermione was also jittery, but for very different reasons. She cast a glance at Draco Malfoy, who had seated himself against a pillar so that he could lean back comfortably. He tossed his silver-blond hair, spiked out the tufts, and met her gaze.

Hermione nearly jumped when he stared back at her, and she hurriedly dropped into her seat near the front. She wondered whether he had done what she had suggested.

She scanned the classroom. Aha! Somebody was missing. Which meant Draco Malfoy had done it. Her eyes fell back to him, but he closed his eyes in a lazy gesture.

The door behind suddenly slammed, and Professor Severus Snape strode right up front and swung around, his black cloak nearly knocking Ron out of his seat, causing the redhead to turn purple in the face. Snape took no notice, and merely waved his wand, signalling that he wanted textbooks on the table. As he proceeded to his desk, Hermione shoved her hand into her bag, only to widen her eyes in horror.

She had left her book in the library last night!

Hermione groaned inwardly. Why hadn't she checked? Her Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook had been in the stack of books she had brought up to the library last night, and Draco Malfoy had shoved the stack behind his chair after Disillusioning them. And she had forgotten to retrieve them! How could she, the renowned bookworm of Hogwarts, forget about her books!

Flushing red, she raised her hand. Snape raised his eyebrow.

"No textbook, Miss Granger? I thought you more discerning and intelligent than to turn up for my class without a textbook," he drawled, coldly. Hermione tried not to look flustered. "Ten points from... yes, Mr Malfoy, what is it?" Snape was clearly irritated to have been interrupted by his favourite student, whose hand was in the air.

"No need to take away points, sir," replied Draco, lazily, holding up a textbook. "I've an extra one."

Everyone stared at him as he whipped the book over, just narrowly missing Ron and landing on Hermione's desk.

Hermione stared at the book in front of her, disbelieving.

_The last time a book came between us, he accused me of ruining it and stalked out of the room!_

Snape was clearly angry at the interruption, but still took away five points for the fact that Hermione wasn't holding her own book.

Hermione dared not look around to meet everybody's gaze. She could feel herself growing hot. Opening the book, there was a flourishing scrawl at the bottom right corner of the first page:

_'Draco Lucius Malfoy'_

The book was highlighted and scrawled with Malfoy's familiar handwriting. Hermione frowned. This was clearly his own book! Did he actually have a second...

She sneaked a glance when Snape was reiterating the stances for wand wielding for advanced Shield Charms. All the DA members had practised under Harry last year, and were more than capable of wand wielding after the 'private lessons', including the more advanced Charms. She saw Draco leaning over his book, and the pages were the same as those of the book he had given her. It was a Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook all right. She flipped back the book on her table and stared at the cover. This was also a real textbook. But why would he buy two...? She couldn't help glancing back at him.

Draco met her gaze, and then she saw the familiar shine in his eyes. With a smirk, he lifted up the back cover of his book, and Hermione saw that it was his Charms textbook! Swallowing back her gasp, she realised he must have Charmed the textbook pages to look like the DADA one.

And instead of giving her the Charmed one, he had given her his original textbook. Which meant that if anybody was to get into further trouble, it would be him.

Hermione felt the knot in her stomach tighten.

"Miss Granger, could you please demonstrate to me how to wield your wand for an Indervo Charm?" boomed Snape, dangerously, startling Hermione to look up.

Hermione's expression turned confident, and Snape's cold expression darkened.

When Snape dismissed the class, he ordered Draco to stay behind. Harry and Ron exchanged looks before walking out with the other Gryffindor students. Hermione dawdled a little, then looked at Draco, but he pretended to adjust the strap of his bag. As he made his way to the aisle, she hurriedly caught up and slipped the textbook back into his open bag before walking off. Draco didn't flinch; he merely walked on right in front of Snape, whose back was facing him. As the last of the students filed off, Snape swung back and the doors of the classroom slammed shut.

"Did you do it?" Snape demanded, glaring at Draco.

"What?" asked Draco, innocently.

"You stole the Greengrass girls' pendants, didn't you?" accused Snape.

"What pendant? And why are you accusing me?" retorted Draco, folding his arms. Then nonchalantly, he added, "So that's why Daphne Greengrass isn't in class today, is it?"

Snape's eyes flickered. Then he smirked. "To think I taught you the very skill you're using to protect yourself now."

"You can't accuse me without evidence," replied Draco, coolly. "And I really don't know what you are talking about."

Snape narrowed his eyes at Draco. "This is no joke, Draco. The Greengrass girls are now in potential danger because of this."

Draco shrugged his shoulders.

Snape knew that there would be no use interrogating Draco anymore. Then he eyed the textbook half sticking out of his bag.

"Since when were you so generous, by the way?" His voice was silky and dangerous.

Draco glared back. "You're not my guardian. You're only supposed to interfere when I need you to. So don't try messing with my affairs, if you don't want to help," he snarled. Then he turned around and stalked off. Snape was left staring after him, almost scarlet in the face.

-.-.-.-.-.-

"You're actually progressing!" Harry gaped, as they sat down at the usual place facing the courtyard once lessons had ended. The weather had warmed, and the snow was clearing, leaving a rather bare piece of land.

Ginny looked worriedly at Hermione, while Ron looked skeptical.

"Is that supposed to be a good thing?" asked Ron, rather annoyed. "It doesn't seem to bode well when Malfoy suddenly turns all nice and helps you out."

Hermione had forbidden the other Gryffindors (particularly Corrinne, who hadn't been very happy about it) in her Arithmancy class from telling Harry and Ron what had happened, citing fear that they would go beat Malfoy up into a pulp. And she was thankful now that she had kept it from them, or else they would have made a big fuss over the huge difference in attitude.

"What have you two been talking about?" continued Ron.

Hermione exchanged looks with Ginny, then simply said, "We're getting along a bit better than before."

"What does that mean?" asked Harry, genuinely curious.

Hermione hesitated. Beforehand, she had told Ginny that she was 'sick of Draco Malfoy'. But it seemed that she had to meet him a lot more regularly than just during patrol times now that it was _her_ plan that he was following. She knew she couldn't hide too much from Harry and Ron, and they were her best friends after all. But still...

"Ginny told me it's been quite tiring for you to be facing Malfoy's insults all the time," said Harry, rubbing his nose ruefully. "But if he's helping you out in class, it shows that he's beginning to see you as – you know, a potential friend!"

_Friend?_ Hermione almost laughed at the thought. Draco had talked about killing her everytime they met. He was only using her for her brains. As for what he did during Defence class, she couldn't fathom it either.

"I've been asking after him ever since he fainted during patrol," said Hermione, awkwardly. "And I think... the way I analysed his emotions seemed to have been spot on. He just – kept staring at me when I was talking about how he should stop mistaking others' concern for him as pity, and stop being so arrogant just because he is a bloody Death Eater. Nobody talks to him about this except for me, and he gets furious when I hit a raw nerve, but that's okay. That's just him. And I told him I don't believe he's being a Death Eater because he wants to be, but because he's avenging his father."

"So he really is avenging Lucius Malfoy?" asked Harry, in a low voice.

Hermione nodded. "He refused to admit it, but I'm quite sure he is."

"That's equivalent to not knowing the truth," growled Ron.

Hermione glared at him. "Trust me, okay?"

Harry pushed up his spectacles. "If that's the case, then what's he up to now?"

"Well..." said Hermione, trying hard not to look at Ginny. She wasn't really sure of what to say. She knew that if she told Harry about the Wentervale issue, Harry would intervene and want to go after this man himself, since Maldash Wentervale held a secret about Voldemort which Voldemort wanted him to bring to his grave. But this would mean that if Harry reached Wentervale first, Draco was more than likely not to retrieve any information regarding his father's death should Harry finish off Wentervale, or even worse, the other way round, Hermione thought and shuddered. Harry was still a student after all, and Wentervale an ex-Death Eater. Not that Draco Malfoy was any different...

But it seemed a better option if Draco Malfoy went after Wentervale himself. If she was helping to plan his way there, then she would get to know the information Wentervale might reveal to Malfoy, or so she hoped. That way, she could bring the information back to Harry without risking his life. At the same time, Malfoy would find out more about his father's death.

"He's not telling me anything yet," said Hermione, at last. "He just goes on about how you Mudbloods won't know a thing and stop trying to be preachy. But he actually talks to me now and not like insults me after every sentence kind of thing."

"What about the killing of someone?" asked Harry, looking edgy.

"I'm not going to confront him like that, Harry," said Hermione, pointedly, wishing that her heartbeat wasn't so fast.

Harry looked apologetic, but at the same time, none of them were at ease when Harry had mentioned 'killing'.

"I suppose he appreciates that somebody is talking to him and not beating about the bush with his status. As for today, maybe he was trying to show me he can be civil after all," added Hermione, hoping that she sounded convincing. Part of it was true anyway; she hadn't expected Draco to lend a hand, and in public as well.

"You make him sound human," snorted Ron, and Ginny was still looking worried. "For somebody who is about to become a murderer."

"He is human," said Hermione, under her breath. "And I won't let him become a murderer."

When Hermione and Ginny had returned to the girls' dormitory, they put down their textbooks and stationery and got ready to go out to bask a bit in the increasing warmth of the weather. As Hermione placed her textbooks neatly at the bottom of her cupboard, she heard Ginny walk over and sit on her bed. Turning to look at the red-haired girl staring at her, she felt a wave of uneasiness.

"Wow, you're fast," she managed to say, weakly.

"Sick of Malfoy, huh." Ginny's voice was skeptical. "Did you go see him last night instead of researching in the library?"

Hermione was startled. "What? Are you suggesting I had some rendezvous with him?"

"Ew, rendezvous with such a ferret?" Ginny wrinkled up her nose. "Okay, I went a bit far, sorry I suggested that." Then Hermione couldn't help grinning, and Ginny laughed, both girls' laughter tinkling about the room as other girls were filing in to put down their books too. Even while laughing, Hermione felt her heartbeat accelerate a little again. What was wrong with her?

Then Ginny stopped laughing and looked seriously at Hermione, her voice low so that no one else could hear. "So what was true and what wasn't? I don't really like it when you're not telling the whole truth, Hermione."

Hermione sighed. Ginny was trustworthy, but she was still Harry's girlfriend and one of her closest friends after all. If she was to be put in serious danger, then Ginny wouldn't let her take any step leading to that consequence. She was feeling rather guilty for side-stepping the library incident – after all, she did have some kind of rendezvous with Malfoy – but yet she couldn't take any risks. Harry couldn't know about this for now, and Malfoy would be livid if he found out anybody else other than Hermione saw his vulnerable side.

"You remember I got to know about Wentervale through eavesdropping?" reminded Hermione, trying to steady her voice. "Right now, Malfoy hasn't told me anything worth knowing directly..."

She hesitated. Well, it was relatively true. The only thing he had told her directly had been – Hermione's breath nearly stopped. If she let Draco's first mission out, there would be chaos.

"I still need to – you know, build up the rapport and all." Yes, rapport. She would somehow make Malfoy come round and see that he was never going to be able to kill Dumbledore, and not only would be futile, it would be against his conscience to do it to the man who was willing to keep him in Hogwarts for the sake of an education, despite the fact that he was a Death Eater. Hermione's heart ached just thinking of that. Professor Dumbledore – their wise, skilled, and almost grandfatherly Headmaster.

"Rapport," Ginny spoke the word with distaste, jerking Hermione out of her thoughts. "Merlin, I can't imagine how you agreed to help Harry with this. I'd be so disgusted everytime I talked to that arrogant jerk. I'm not one of those people who pities him either, so full of himself just because he's become a Death Eater."

"Did he do something?" asked Hermione, glad to shift herself out of the focus.

"Just before we filed out onto the pitch for that Quidditch match, I casually remarked he had a few threads sticking out of his robes," said Ginny, sniffing. "And then out came the whole insulting-Weasleys-as-blood-traitors-thing – like how we're so pathetic we're reduced to wearing hand-me-downs and tattered jumpers, so I didn't have the right to point out his flaws. What the hell? I was just trying to be nice!" She rolled her eyes. "For _you_. So that maybe he wouldn't give you such a hell of a time as I figured he would."

Hermione's heart ached even more. "I'm sorry, Ginny."

Ginny was about to remark that there was nothing to be sorry about for a ferret, especially one that could potentially be a lot more dangerous than he was, when Corrinne Whitemayer walked over, her eyes glittering dangerously.

"What was that about that bloody Malfoy?"

Her voice was so venomous, both Hermione and Ginny couldn't help wincing.

"Argh, Corrinne, you ought to be less vehement," said Ginny, scowling. She hadn't gotten over Corrinne's rash act on the pitch that had nearly been construed as a foul.

Corrinne was not looking at her; her fierce gaze was set on Hermione. She had seen both the angry outburst Draco had in Arithmancy, as well as the helpful gesture in Defence Against the Dark Arts, and she was definitely not pleased.

"We're just saying what a jerk he is," said Hermione, shrugging her shoulders.

Corrinne raised her eyebrows and scowled, turning away. Hermione knew that she would have to talk to Corrinne again soon, but as Corrinne walked away, Ginny couldn't resist bursting out, "Stop playing your personal matters on the pitch, Whitemayer, you'd send us all off one day with that temper of yours!"

"Looks like you aren't any different, Weasley," said Corrinne, smirking, and walked out of the dormitory.

"She irks the hell out of me!" It was Ginny's turn to be vehement, and Hermione winced again. This was going to be far from a good year.

-.-.-.-.-.-

"This is preposterous!"

The voice was wheezy, shaky, but full of rage and iciness. Severus Snape maintained as emotionless a mask as he could manage, in front of the wrinkled face of an old lady that was crinkling into even more lines. Her eyes were, however, full of life and determination.

"I assure you, Mrs Greengrass, that we are currently embarking on an investigation..."

"There is no need for an investigation!" huffed the old lady, leaning so heavily on her cane that Snape thought she might fall over any moment. "There can only be one perpetrator!"

Astoria turned a smouldering gaze onto Snape. "It has to be Draco Malfoy."

Snape hoped that the flash in his eyes didn't give him away. "And why would that be, Miss Greengrass?"

"It has to be a Slytherin," came the curt reply. "Only Slytherins can enter our common-room, and I believe that given Mr Malfoy's _capabilities_," the voice was now dripping with sarcasm, "he's more than a worthy suspect."

At the side, Daphne shuddered and clutched at the empty space in front of her chest.

"Get him here!" snarled the old lady, suddenly brimming with newfound vitality as she tried to straighten her back. "Incompetent fools, all of you. I just ask that my granddaughters are protected, and then you bring that damned creature back into Hogwarts!"

Snape didn't know whether it was the right thing to get Draco in alone with the lady. But he knew that he had to handle the matter carefully, or else he'd risk blowing everything up into the face of Albus Dumbledore. And that was certainly one of the last things he wanted to do, as he thought about what the Dark Lord had told Draco to do.

A little flick of his wand sent a rolled-up scroll into the hands of an incoming house-elf, and the creature scurried out. Minutes later, Draco Malfoy, with his slicked blonde hair rising in a tuft above his cold gray eyes, entered the room. His face remained impassioned upon seeing the Greengrasses standing around, all glowering at him.

"So this is the young Master Malfoy?" croaked the old lady, coldly.

"Professor, what is this about?" Draco folded his arms, his face full of haughtiness.

"The Malfoy arrogance!" snapped the old lady, and Snape shook his head. "Mr Malfoy, this is Mrs Lily Greengrass, the Greengrass girls' grandmother. She would like to pursue the matter of the pendants."

"What pendants?" Draco's expression was bewildered. "I told you I had nothing to do with any pendants! Professor, this is atrocious."

"You filthy Death Eater!" The poisonous voice of the old lady made Draco wince with pain and anger.

Snape raised his eyebrow.

"Mrs Greengrass, I hope you permit that I stay to..."

"I'm not going to harm him," spat the old lady, glaring at Snape, who scowled. "I would just like to have a few words with him. I'm not even accusing him of anything now."

Snape had to relent when she said that. If he didn't let her have her way, things would become complicated. His eyes flickered as he watched Draco.

_So he had figured it out..._

Snape took a deep breath, then motioned for both Astoria and Daphne to follow him out of the room. Daphne was shaking; Astoria was white, but both girls complied.

Within seconds, there was only Draco Malfoy and the old lady in Snape's office.

Draco's shocked expression gave way to a look of calmness. He then gave a bow. "My honour to meet you, Mrs Lily Greengrass."

The old lady smirked. "Draco Malfoy. What theatrics you put up. You may dispense with formalities."

"Or should I say," continued Draco, with a glint in his eyes. "Madam _Lanneria Wentervale_?"

There was silence.

The old lady didn't really move much; she just looked at Draco. Finally she smiled, but it was a rather tired smile. "And I was still hoping that it was just a case of theft. So you do admit you stole the pendants. To get me to appear."

He smirked. "You're not bad at theatrics yourself, Madam Wentervale, making it seem as though you're angry because it is a case of theft. You're clearly frightened that I have come to know of your identity. And as for my Professor, I assure you that he has more intelligence than you accord him."

Lanneria shook her head. "I acted for my granddaughters."

"So you did."

She smiled serenely, as she lifted up her wrinkled face. "Do as you wish."

Draco barked out a harsh laugh. "Do you think I will kill you? It is not my honour."

"You are but the Dark Lord's minion."

"You address him as such?"

"As a respect to my half-brother, who insists on still addressing him as such."

Draco whistled. "So Maldash Wentervale still retains an iota of respect for him?"

"Certainly, if not he would have revealed everything to everyone possible," replied Lanneria, coolly, her hand resting calmly on her cane.

"But he still revealed things to my father," pointed out Draco, darkly.

"Is that what you have come for?" asked Lanneria, her gaze fixed on Draco. "For Lucius Malfoy?"

Draco was silent.

"You just want to know where my half-brother is," said Lanneria, smiling, but her smile was not very pleasant. "And what makes you think, my naive little boy, that I will tell you?"

"Because I have your granddaughters' pendants."

Lanneria laughed, a tinkling little laugh that ended up sending shivers down Draco's spine. "And what makes you think I cannot make another pair, or that I have another?"

"And what makes you think the Dark Lord cannot figure out the magic that you have used to charm your pendants now that I have one pair?" asked Draco, silkily.

Lanneria's smile vanished, and was replaced by a cold look.

"You can take me. A life for a life."

"You care for Maldash Wentervale." Draco observed, looking straight at her defiant eyes. "You would rather sacrifice your life than to divulge his whereabouts."

"I don't even know where he is."

"A valiant attempt."

"I really don't know." A hint of frustration showed in Lanneria's eyes. Draco suddenly realised that she was telling the truth.

"But you have clues," he urged.

"A life for a life," she repeated.

"The Dark Lord won't take your life till you tell us where Maldash Wentervale is," said Draco, smirking. "He will keep you and torture you. And whilst he does, your husband, your children, your grandchildren – they won't sit still and watch you die a slow death. Surely, after all these years of protecting you, they would risk limb and bone for you."

The smile came back over Lanneria's face; it was almost peaceful. "You underestimate my family, Mr Malfoy."

Draco raised his eyebrows. So they had all been prepared for this day. Of course, how foolish of him, if not, she wouldn't have come personally to look for him.

"Astoria told me that you knew of my identity – to me, it is not important how you found out. I know it was a secret that would be divulged sooner or later. But these last few decades that I've managed to evade capture, that I've spent with my family, are more than enough. I told Jeremiah that I only estimated our relationship to last two years at most. But surprisingly, I am now old enough to be a grandmother of two," said Lanneria, in a wistful tone. "That is more than I can ask for. Therefore, I don't care that you take me now, in fact, it is a form of release now that I don't have to keep hiding from everyone."

Breathing heavily, Draco knew he had to take a very dangerous step. It was now or never.

"If I guarantee that this information does not go to the Dark Lord?" he asked quietly.

Lanneria Wentervale raised her eyebrows. Then her eyes sparkled with a hint of understanding. "For your father?"

Draco didn't say a word. The less, the better.

"You are naive, child," said Lanneria, in a sagely voice. "You won't get far."

"I just want to know what really happened to my father. I want to know why he took the risk to let your half-brother go," snarled Draco, his resolve breaking. "And speaking of that, maybe you owe me one for the fact that my father saved your half-brother twice."

"Maldash will meet his doom sooner or later," Lanneria admitted, and she shook her head. "But it should not be through betrayal."

Outside there was a firm knock. "Can we come in now?" asked Snape's impatient voice.

"No!" Draco and Lanneria's voices echoed back, equally firmly.

Lanneria chuckled as she stared at Draco. "Poor boy. You are only a Death Eater because you are forced into it, aren't you?"

Draco bristled at the use of the word '_boy_' once again, as if to emphasise how small and naive and stupid he was, and at the same time, the fact that she seemed to be able to guess everything going on in his head. _Just like Granger._

He shook his head to rid himself of all the uneasiness.

Then he looked back at Lanneria, feeling the iciness emanate from his gaze. "You don't have many options you know, Madam Wentervale. If I have the ability to sneak into the girls' dormitories to steal your granddaughters' pendants, Merlin knows what I could do to their little necks." His fists curled up into a ball. Lanneria's eyes widened with a hint of shock, her smile fading again. "I may only be a little boy, but I know many things little boys don't know, or might not have the guts to do."

"You stay away from my girls!" Lanneria gritted her teeth, her cane slamming into the floor.

"You have nothing to play with," said Draco, coolly. "You can give a life for a life. But that won't stop me from giving the Dark Lord the pendants, and your granddaughters will be in for it deep. The only hope you have is to gamble with my promise that I will not divulge Maldash Wentervale's whereabouts to the Dark Lord."

"And you'll still get him killed anyway once you get your information from him." Lanneria glared at him coldly.

"As I said, it's your gamble. That's all you're left with," replied Draco, turning around. "I could give you some privacy to play around with your emotions."

As he said that, his mind wandered to the face of Hermione Granger, in the library, her face wincing as she sat on the floor. Her defiant look. The wafting scent of strawberry. _I hope you're sure as hell right about this, Granger!_

Lanneria began to shuffle along towards the main office door. Draco's gaze followed her; he wasn't sure how to feel at this moment. He had lost the gamble!

Her face turned back to him, and her eyes were more crinkly than ever, and her lips set firmly in a thin line. Then she placed her frail fingers on the door handle and turned it. As soon as she did, Snape came in, with Astoria and Daphne following after. Astoria's face was still pale, but her red hair was as flaming as ever, burning as much as the fire in her eyes. Daphne, on the other hand, had been to the brink of hysterics and back, her brown hair not as outstanding as her sister's, but the beautiful curls now lay limp as she stared at Draco with a rather frightened look.

"Grandma, did he hurt you?" asked Astoria, her eyes still fixed harshly on Draco as she reached out for her grandmother's hands.

"No," replied Lanneria, in the same serene voice Draco had heard earlier on. "And he won't hurt the two of you anymore, will you?"

It was not a question; it was a warning.

But she hadn't even told him...

Draco refused to let his gaze leave the old lady, despite Snape's obviously angry gaze willing him to look over in his direction.

Lanneria's crinkly smile came back. Suddenly, a lilting voice, enchanting even, began to caress the still air surrounding them.

"_A labyrinth of secrets, a ring of truth..._" sang the soft sound, and Draco couldn't believe that such a beautiful and youthful voice came out from the sagging lips of the old lady before him. Astoria and Daphne stared at their grandmother, equally surprised. Snape's eyes lighted up at those words.

It was when Draco saw the light in Snape's eyes that he felt the burst of recognition in him towards those words. But Lanneria was not done.

"_Angels of fire no water could soothe..._

The secrets of a lifetime, that no one could prove..."

Draco felt his throat constrict.

Lanneria gave a little bow, then her smile became a little sad. "One is all I have," she whispered. "You now have three."

What she said was rather incomprehensible, until Lanneria whispered the last words in song, "_Two, two, and three?_"

Draco was still reeling from all the softness of the music, when Lanneria, Astoria and Daphne had exited from the room. Snape left a curt parting, "My apologies, Mrs Greengrass," before he descended upon Draco, shaking the stunned Slytherin's shoulders hard.

"What did you all talk about?" demanded Snape, furiously.

Draco shook his head.

"Draco, I've started you off on the only thing that I know, and you need to tell me what is going on so I can help you!"

"And how else can you help?" exploded Draco. "You can't tell me a thing because you're so bloody close to the Dark Lord, you'd risk getting killed! So shut up about telling me you'll help because you can't help me!"

Snape shot him a dirty look. "What about the pendants?"

"Let's just say your head will still be on your neck, and Dumbledore won't know anything about what happened," snapped Draco, twisting himself away out of Snape's grip. His mind was back in a whirl again. What did Lanneria mean?

He had to get to Hermione Granger. Now.

"Draco," began Snape, his eyes flashing, but his protege swung away and fled out of the room, leaving Snape to glower at his desk, his fist crashing down on the side of it.


	12. Angels of Fire

There were no lessons that day with the Gryffindors, it wouldn't do to wait all the way until patrol hour, and Draco Malfoy couldn't risk walking over to the Gryffindor common-room or to the Gryffindor table during mealtimes without being stared at or possibly hexed by Potter and the Weasel. Frustrated, he had to wait patiently as his owl took off to the Owlery to get ready to arrive during supper. The lyrics Lanneria Wentervale had sung were revolving in his head, as well as the same words that were scrawled on the parchment his father had left him. _What could they mean?_

Granger had told him that _'two, two, and three strides'_ meant seven. Lanneria said she had given him one, and he already had three. Draco's sharp mind had already worked out that the line _'angels of fire no water could soothe'_ meant 'one' of whatever it was supposed to represent. And the _'labryinth of secrets'_ was one, and the _'ring of truth'_ another.

Altogether, he had three.

_Three of what?_

Scowling, Draco lay back on his bed as he waited frustratingly for supper hour to arrive. Reaching over to his drawer, he pulled out the yellowed parchment and held it above him, thinking about his father.

Lucius, authoritative as he was, had been a figure of respect to him. Whatever was he thinking when he let Maldash Wentervale go? When he chose the road to death, did he not think of Narcissa and Draco? Did he not think that his son never wanted to become a Death Eater, but had to become one because he had to carry on his father's legacy?

Then suddenly, his thoughts were shifted to Hermione Granger. Why was he suddenly trusting her so much? She was the best friend of Potter and the Weasel. She was almost sisters with that young Weasley, who had just become Potter's precious girlfriend. She herself could even be the Weasel's girlfriend. They were all in one web together. He felt the Dark Mark sting on his arm. Most of all, she was a _Mudblood_. Draco winced to think of what his father might say if he knew Draco was looking to a Mudblood for assistance. It made him cringe even more when he thought of how pathetic he must have seemed in front of her – first fainting out of the blue during patrol, then suddenly losing control of his emotions after the Quidditch match.

Why was he completely unable to get a grip on himself whenever he was around her?

But Draco couldn't answer this himself. When she said she would help, he had almost taken it for granted that she would help – on her own. It was as if she had broken away from the golden trio to take the risk to help him. He remembered seeing the wary eyes Potter and Weasley had during Defence Against the Dark Arts when he had thrown his textbook over to Granger. Clearly, they were shocked by his actions. They hadn't been around during Arithmancy to see Draco boil over. That hadn't been on purpose – he just couldn't stand how Granger seemed to be sticking to him all the time. And now he was starting to feel that she was actually taking him as... as... whatever it was, it was not pity. Or fear.

Not like everyone else.

Still, should he really let her see the parchment? The piece in front of his eyes suddenly felt so precious and personal. It was the last connection he had with his father. Draco could almost see Lucius' stern eyes peering out from it.

But if she didn't see it, he didn't know how the hell he was going to decipher it all by himself. And as time drained away, he was getting increasingly frustrated by the lack of progress. The reason why he could obtain another clue from Lanneria Wentervale had been thanks to Granger.

It certainly did not please him to realise that.

"Draco?"

The sound of Blaise's voice jerked Draco from his reverie, and quickly, he shoved the parchment back into the drawer.

"What?" barked Draco, harshly.

Blaise peeked past the curtains that hung over Draco's bed. "So what did Snape call you to his office for?"

"Nothing," said Draco, quickly, his eyes rolling upwards to the ceiling. "Just to tell me to be careful and all that."

Blaise narrowed his eyes at the lazy figure of Draco. "And I'd add on to that. Everybody's still on their guard against you. You don't want to screw up big time on your first mission."

Draco wondered why Blaise had said that, as the black-haired boy turned and left the dormitory. The Zabinis were not known to be associated with the Death Eaters, and the conversations between the two boys had never veered towards the Dark Lord. Blaise had also never shown any inclination towards the dark side. But Blaise's reticence about his family had always been a puzzle for Draco, considering the pureblood Slytherins had always been proud of their families and bloodlines. Draco also realised that while he knew much about the Parkinsons, the Bulstrodes, the Notts, and to some extent he was aware of the Greengrasses' parents, he barely knew anything about the Zabinis.

His teeth clicked with frustration, and he closed his eyes. Things were getting very complicated indeed.

-.-.-.-.-.-

The owl swooped over the heads of the first few on the tables, so low that it nearly knocked Neville Longbottom off his seat, along with the swarms of other owls soaring over. Its talons clutched a thin piece of parchment, and when it found its brown-haired target, it released the piece, almost dropping it into the bowl of soup when a hand reached out to grab it.

"You've got mail!" Ginny announced, excitedly, as she made to open the parchment.

"Don't!" Hermione almost choked over her soup and reached out for the parchment, snatching it back.

Ginny pouted and leaned over eagerly. "Who's that from, Krum?"

It was Ron's turn to choke violently over the soup.

All of them stared at him, alarmed, as the purple clouded his face. Scowling, he glared at Hermione. "That pug still writes to you? I thought he had given up!"

"Pug?" Hermione repeated with distaste. "Honestly, Ron!"

"Thought he looked like a perverted pug," said Ron, sulkily. It wasn't that he _liked_ Hermione in that way – maybe, for a while he did see her in a different light, and had sorely regretted not asking her to the Yule Ball. But as the summer break had gone by, he was quite sure that he only saw her as a good friend, and was thankful that he hadn't spilled out any 'feelings' he thought he might have had. Still, Viktor Krum was a pain in the neck whenever he thought about him, and Ron was still sour that Hermione actually thought well of him and had quarrelled with him over that – pug.

"So is it Krum?" Ginny shot her brother a teasing grin.

Hermione hadn't the faintest idea who that owl belonged to, and it sure didn't look like it was a Bulgarian breed. The last time Krum sent her anything (which had been a while), the owl had been just as bulky as Krum himself had been; it barely managed to stop itself from rolling all around the table when it had arrived awkwardly. She was about to deny it when she couldn't help noticing the beautifully bright green ribbon that tied up the parchment. Perhaps it was best they had forgotten how Krum's owl had looked like.

"Can I have some privacy?" demanded Hermione, the intuitive needle in her heart suddenly pointing towards a particular person.

Ginny was still wearing her grin, while Harry chuckled and Ron's sulk deepened.

When they had finished supper, Hermione excused herself to the girls' bathroom, only to quickly unravel the parchment. In the familiar flourished scrawl were the words,

_"Same place, same time. No questions yet."_

He hadn't even bothered to sign off. Hermione gritted her teeth. But then again, with his new status (or not so new anymore) as Death Eater, he couldn't be alerting the whole world that he was actually on civil terms with Hermione Granger, the Mudblood he despised.

_Then why did he help me this morning?_ Hermione felt her cheeks burn at the memory. That had only served to make things worse. People like Corrinne Whitemayer, Seamus Finnigan, Pansy Parkinson... all of them had seen both incidents that showcased both the ups and downs of – what could be termed as their 'relationship'. _He's only drawing attention to himself, that idiot!_

It couldn't be helped; she had to meet him to find out as well.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Patrol had been a terse affair, as it mostly was. Both of them kept to their ends of the corridor and refused to look at each other. Hermione flinched as she heard Draco take away an extravagant amount of points from first-year Ravenclaws for "trying to be so bloody smart" when they had overbalanced, sending all the books they had borrowed from the library crashing onto Draco's feet and causing him to howl with pain and anger. Still, she refrained from trying to interfere, even though the judge in her was seething with fury.

The fury was definitely a build-up from her snowballing thoughts of what he had said to her at Arithmancy class, then the strange civility he had shown in Defence Against the Dark Arts, right in front of his favourite teacher – and possibly his Death Eater mentor right now! How dare he play around with her and make her tongue-tied in front of her friends, having to explain the queer turnabout of events. The more she thought about it, the more furious she was, and she had to stand at her corner fuming for the next hour or so.

Finally when patrol ended, she had immediately made her way to the library without bothering to wait for him. Storming up the moving staircase that shifted towards the library, she felt something in her bubbling alongside her anger. It was – anticipation. Anticipation for what he was about to tell her. If he had called her to meet him, surely there must have been some progress to the pendant incident. In her mind, she had predicted that Draco would be hauled in for interrogation by the Greengrass family themselves, because no other person would have greater suspicion. Her face coloured a little at the thought that Draco knew how to dispel the magic which prevented the Slytherin boys from entering the girls' dormitories. That was probably the last thing she needed to know about him.

But when she reached the library entrance, she realised to her dismay that she couldn't possibly perform the same act of just walking in without Madam Pince questioning her about yesterday's swift leave or try to do another disappearing act again. Just before the cogwheels of her mind started to spin, she felt the familiar feeling of a raw egg cracking above her head. She was about to squeal when a warm hand suddenly snaked around her neck and covered her mouth. Her eyes widening, she tried to twist to see who it was. But she needn't have to. Even if she couldn't make out who it was, she knew.

With his other hand, he led her through the main reading area, past an unsuspecting Madam Pince and the rest of the students buried in their books. When they reached the secret corner, he gently pulled out a chair for her and she fell into the soft seat, gaping at no one in particular. There was utter silence, till a few minutes later, Madam Pince walked around for her routine checks, and eventually left the library in darkness.

Finally, the jelly-like feeling that shrouded her slowly dissipated, and in front of her, a beam of light appeared and illuminated the figure of Draco Malfoy, lying in his lazy stance in the armchair, staring listlessly at her.

For a moment, Hermione couldn't speak. All the hours of fuming earlier on were stuck at her throat, refusing to spill out. Suddenly, the casual way Draco Malfoy was sitting seemed rather – alluring. His silver-blond hair fell lazily over his pale face, and rose in a slick tuft above his forehead, which was glowing in the moonlight that fell through the window he was looking at. His gray eyes suddenly glittered silver, and it seemed that the rest of his chiselled features were glowing with the moonlight pooling all over him. His tie was loosely undone, and he had an unbuttoned collar... the warm feeling of his arm around her neck and the pressure he had applied on her lips with his hand...

Hermione had to stop herself from gaping, and immediately felt foolish. She had to remind herself this was a Death Eater she was staring at. Even though her intuition felt otherwise, she couldn't help but hear Harry, Ron and Ginny's voices repeating in her head... that he was a potential murderer...

"Are you spying on me?" His curt voice pierced through the silence. Hermione was surprised to detect a hint of bitterness, only to have her surprise replaced by shock that he should ask such an ironic question.

"No," she said quietly, looking at her hands.

"Look at me."

His voice was so authoritative and full of emotions so complicated that it hurt Hermione's head to listen to it. She had no choice but to comply, lifting her head to stare at those silver eyes, which were now boring into hers. They were almost – mesmerising.

"No," she repeated, feeling confidence seep back into her. "Is this what you thought all along? That I was spying on you?"

"You thought I was going to kill Potter," replied Draco, coldly, although he couldn't take his gaze off her for some inexplicable reason, despite the fact that she was now staring at him defiantly. "What better way than to know your enemy inside out."

"It's harder to know you than you think, Malfoy," snapped Hermione, glaring at him. She could feel the earlier anger clouding her system again. "I haven't the faintest idea what you were attempting to do during Dark Arts class today. So now that you think I'm spying on you, you make me look like an idiot in front of my friends?"

"How did you explain?" The amused glint that had come into his eyes was not lost on her. It only served to make her boil even more.

Hermione clenched her fists. "I told them I'm not one of those gits who are bent on pitying you for losing your father or being scared of you because you've joined the ranks of Death Eaters. And perhaps you thought it well to repay my civility."

She was surprised at how honest she was about what she had told her friends; then again, what she had told them wasn't the whole truth. It was getting tiring, trying to hide things here and there. She was supposed to be a spy for Harry – so why wasn't she telling him anything? So far all she could do was to confirm that Draco was a Death Eater, and try to convince Harry that he was still human. She couldn't even blurt out that Draco was going to kill Dumbledore.

_Why? Why?_

Looking at Draco, who was still staring at her, she felt a flush rise up her neck. Damn, she kept getting these hot flushes when she was around him.

Draco looked at her hard. Then his expression softened a little. If she was telling the truth, then her friends must have been hopping mad to know that she was actually on civil terms with Draco Malfoy, not only their longtime nemesis, but one not to be trifled with, particularly with the start of the new term. He was deeply impressed by how direct she was. But still, he could not help feeling uneasy that she was being so forthright in offering to help. Why didn't she understand that he didn't want to have to kill someone he didn't need to? Sooner or later, she would interfere too much and he would have to – looking into those hazel eyes, something was tugging at him. _What's wrong with me?_

Feeling as though waves of regret would sweep over him any moment, his fingers reached for the parchment in his pocket. Before he pulled it out, he found himself saying,

"I don't know what you're up to. You could be doing this for Potter, for Weasley, yourself, I don't really give a damn. All I know is that I need to reach my goal soon, and since you've offered to help, then I'm taking you up on your offer. What happened in Arithmancy is what can happen anytime, so don't push your luck Granger, I'm far from being chummy with you." He glared at her, but she merely looked at him back with an almost curious expression. "And you've probably worked out why I _helped_ you today."

He thought he saw her eyes droop, but they were back looking at him again, firmly. If she was trying to play tricks, then he would easily play her like a puppet. He could play with the trust between her and her friends. Then again – it was also his fault that her textbook had been left in the library...

With one hand still in his pocket, he used the other hand to push out the stack of books she had left behind in the library. She stared at the stack, then bit her lip and pulled it over to her side, almost protectively.

"That's nice of you, considering I _offered_." Hermione gave him a dirty look.

"It's my game you're playing. So you follow my rules," replied Draco, haughtily. Then he eventually gathered up the courage to fish out the precious parchment from his pocket. Hermione's eyes widened with curiosity as he held it up.

Before she could ask, he unfolded the parchment and laid it out on the table in front of her. The words on the parchment were almost similar to Draco's, except that it had a more mature aura and a more lavish flourish. Although... the words seemed to falter towards the end, becoming more of a scrawl and scribble.

_Two, two, and three strides._

The first line caused her to gape. A memory of Draco walking in that very rhythm came to mind. She looked up at Draco's face, only to see him look angry all over again.

_Cuts across him, a magic that divides,_

A labyrinth of secrets, a ring of truth,

Keeps his power, keeps him aloof.

All that I know I pen with fear

Hermione caught her breath as she saw the last line.

_For soon he will make me disappear._

"Your book..." she stammered.

Draco frowned. He shouldn't have left that line lurking around carelessly in his textbook. Then he looked at Hermione, with a rather dark expression.

"My father gave this to me before his death. I am suspecting it contains secrets about the Dark Lord." He felt his heartbeat race as he revealed these secrets. Every word was like a stab through his heart. "Whether or not it's what he knew, or what Maldash Wentervale might have told him."

"And the Dark Lord doesn't know you're talking about this?" squeaked Hermione.

"You're not the only one who knows Occlumency," Draco shot back, venomously, and Hermione shrank back. He was clearly not willing to part with this information, but Hermione was trying her best to absorb everything. Suddenly, it was as if she was able to reach out and peel off the layers he was carrying on him.

Then he leaned forward and placed his fingers outstretched on the parchment, smoothening out the edges. In a very icy, but somewhat shaky voice, he continued,

"You were right. Lanneria Wentervale appeared yesterday to confront me about the pendants."

"What did she say?"

"First of all, do you know the story of Maldash Wentervale?"

"Yes, I told you Ginny told me," replied Hermione, impatiently.

"Then you must know that my father was killed for letting him go twice, and that I suspect Maldash must have revealed some secrets to him." Draco took a deep breath. "Any of the four privileged Death Eaters who get to know the Dark Lord's secret cannot know more than one, and therefore if my father left me two secrets, one must have belonged to Maldash, and one to him. This is much as I have speculated."

Then before Hermione could react with confusion, Draco related about the legend of the four trusted Death Eaters, and what Lanneria had told him, leaving out the bits that taunted him about his father. He was past caring about regretting his words; he just wanted to find answers as soon as possible. As he stared back at the parchment, the haunting song that Lanneria had sung, the beautiful voice that she carried, came floating back into his mind. Unconsciously, the words left his mouth in the same tune,

_"Angels of fire no water could soothe,_

The secrets of a lifetime, that no one could prove..."

Hermione's gaze couldn't leave the parchment as the song fell out of Draco's lips. It was almost enchanting, the way he had sung it, the beautifully-crafted words, the magically soothing and yet haunting effect of the tune. When she eventually tore her gaze away from the table, she saw Draco's eyes glaze over for a moment, before they became hard again. The glitter that was in his eyes flickered, and his pupils looked stonier than ever.

"She said you had three now."

"As I have told you, those three lines must indicate three markers. But I have no clue as to what they might be," came Draco's curt reply. He was feeling extremely bitter and vulnerable now that he had told Hermione so many things. It made him uneasy and deep down, he fervently wished his Occlumency skills were as good as he hoped they were. If the Dark Lord knew...

"Then surely the one she told you must be a marker leading you to a possible location of Maldash Wentervale."

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"And," continued Hermione, her eyebrows knotting together as she looked back at the words on the parchment. "It seems to me that the 'him' here would probably refer to Voldemort. There are seven 'cuts' across him, of which we have yet to decipher..." What she said earned her a snort from Draco, but she carried on nevertheless. "But if I may say, I think that it means Voldemort has seven secrets. You have the clue to three – two from your father, one from Lanneria Wentervale. And I would think Maldash was the one who weaved the clues into song."

"So he also knew the clue my father had?"

"We cannot be certain that your father was definitely one of the four, Malfoy," pointed out Hermione. "If Lanneria could give you one clue, it shows that Maldash was in possession of at least two clues; he couldn't possibly entrust his only secret to her and allow her to give it away so easily. If you said each of the privileged Death Eaters could only have one, then..."

"No wonder the Dark Lord wants him dead..." muttered Draco, angrily. _If he wanted to get into trouble, he shouldn't have brought Father down with him! In fact, down before him!_

"We should start from the marker Lanneria Wentervale gave you. If what I'm guessing is right, she's pointing to the last location where Maldash might have gone to. Which is to search for one of Voldemort's clues. And it's the most specific clue out of all I should think. _Angels of fire._"

"And how specific is that?" asked Draco, incredulously.

There was a pause.

"A seraphim?" Hermione suggested. "The legendary angel known as _the burning one._"

Draco looked confused.

"It's a Biblical creature. You know, Christianity... it's a Muggle religion."

"The wizarding world does not associate with Muggle religions," said Draco, haughtily.

Hermione's forehead creased for a moment.

Then suddenly her eyes lit up. "Talk about no water could soothe. When water lashes over the burning flames, what still insists on rising up from the ashes, a new life born again? Something like an angel, something with wings?"

For a moment, Draco was confused again. Then suddenly he caught onto the phrase _'rises up from the ashes'_, and in his mind, there conjured an image of a strikingly beautiful creature, emitting the brightest light ever, emerging from the smoky black ashes to raise its wings...

When he shook off the vision and stared back into Hermione's excited eyes, he could feel a bubble of excitement rising up in him as well.

"And," said Hermione, breathing heavily, her eyes sparkling, "I know exactly where we can find one."


	13. The Masks of Good and Evil

"What makes you so sure it's referring to a _phoenix_?"

"Harry told me before that when Umbridge stormed the Headmaster's Office last year, Professor Dumbledore once escaped by clasping his hands to the legs of Fawkes," said Hermione, her eyes shining. "That is what we have to find out. How he did that. And how to get into Dumbledore's office."

"But it could be some other phoenix emblem, or a place called Phoenix!" countered Draco, irritably. Somehow the image of Umbridge had popped back into his mind, and he didn't have to remember how remarkably childish he had been to join her Inquisitorial Squad just to earn some cotton-candy credit which had amounted to nothing. "What makes you think it's Dumbledore's pet?"

"It's all we've got," reminded Hermione. "Our next visit out of Hogwarts is to Hogsmeade next Friday. That's just too late – one week to sit around and not do anything is going to kill you, mark my words." Draco had to admit she was right; he was already getting all fidgety. "We have no other way to get to any place called Phoenix or is there any other phoenix emblem in Hogwarts. Besides, there are few phoenixes that exist in the world today. Accurately, there are only two known domesticated ones."

"Two?" echoed Draco. "How'd you know?"

"I read," said Hermione, rolling her eyes as though it was a given fact. "The other is the mascot of a New Zealand Quidditch team, but if Dumbledore has one right here at Hogwarts, then it's a chance that I'm willing to give a shot. Are you not?"

Draco grudgingly turned back to face the moonlight. Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat again as she saw the light illuminate his body once again. Hurriedly turning her gaze back to the parchment, she suddenly felt her throat constrict again.

"Oh my god, what time is it?" She almost leapt up from her seat, absolutely flustered.

"Two hours past bedtime," replied Draco, airily, as she muffled a shriek with her hand, grabbed the stack of books and got ready to rush off. She was more than likely to get it from Potty and Weasel – and maybe even Weaselette – for hanging around outside bedtime hours.

"So when do we start?" he demanded, standing up quickly before she took off.

"When we get enough information to get into his office!" And Hermione had dashed off, out of the library, leaving Draco to stare after her, and then back at the parchment on the table. He gingerly picked up the parchment, folded it, and tucked it back into his pocket. Breathing deeply, he shook his head and fell back into the armchair.

-.-.-.-.-.-

"Where _were_ you?" Ron nearly leapt out of his seat when Hermione rushed back to the common-room, only to find her three friends waiting in the empty lounge, looking all worried.

"Library?" She cocked an eyebrow at him. "You could ask Madam Pince, I went to ask her for a book."

She knew that they wouldn't bother to, and Ron sagged back into the couch. Ginny shot her a disapproving look, while Harry looked weary. "Hermione," he began. "Don't go anywhere without telling us, alright?"

"What's happened?" Hermione stared at them, alarmed.

"Susan Bones walked by and reported that Malfoy was in a foul mood after her sister and friends provoked him by dropping books on his precious feet," replied Ginny, scowling. "And then Harry wanted to find you to see if he had taken it out on you. We couldn't find you, only to meet Zabini and find out he was looking for Malfoy too. So we thought..."

"Oh." Hermione winced. "I'm sorry!" She wondered if she should tell the truth. How else would she get Harry to tell her the password to Dumbledore's office? The last time she managed to get in, it was because she had met Dumbledore himself outside. That was too rare a sight to occur again, given that Dumbledore seemed to be pretty elusive these days, more so ever since he had talked to Harry and her. "Don't worry, Malfoy and I kept to our own sides of the corridor, as we always do."

"That's what Susan said when she tried to alleviate our worries," replied Harry, sinking deeper into the couch. "She said you guys are always at polar opposites." Sitting up a little, he looked long and hard at Hermione. "You've got to tell me if things are not working out alright? If it's hard to get things out of him, then let's just leave it. I've a feeling he's playing games with you, the way he acted during Defence class."

"And you didn't tell us what happened in Arithmancy!" burst out Ron.

Harry gave him a hard whack on his shoulder as he did, glaring at him. "Ron!"

"You guys know?" Hermione managed to squeak, feeling rather horrid. She briefly wondered how they knew.

"Hermione," began Harry, cringing. "I understand why you didn't tell us about Malfoy's outburst, but if he's blowing hot and cold, playing villain and hero, it's definitely not a good sign. He's trying to show you he can twist you around his little finger if you're trying to be nice to him."

Hermione felt a little bitter at that insinuation. She didn't need Harry to tell her what Draco had been implying all along. It sort of – _hurt_.

"I know," she said, at last. Ron gave her a reproving look. Hermione winced, then she looked at Harry again, and then tapped two fingers against the couch so that only he could see. He raised his eyebrows at her, but she shook her head lightly, hoping that he understood what she wanted.

"I'll just sit here for a while more," said Harry, leaning back. "Been having nightmares lately; don't really want to go back to the bed."

Ron's gaze shifted from Hermione to Harry, changing from annoyance to concern, then gave a shrug. "Hope it isn't too bad tonight, mate, last night you've been turning and tossing for sure." Hermione gave Harry a look, but he looked away. "I'll be turning in soon. Ginny, you ought to, you've got eyebags!"

That was enough for Ginny, who gave a moan and darted up to the girls' dormitory. Ron looked at Hermione rather sternly, but she shook her head and leant back with a smile, so he lumbered back, and when both doors were shut, there were only Hermione and Harry left in the common-room.

"What can't you say in front of Ginny and Ron?" asked Harry, suspiciously.

"Tell me about your nightmares first," insisted Hermione, looking rather annoyed. Then again, if she was hiding things from Harry, she didn't have the right to get mad at him for trying not to make her worry.

Harry looked uncomfortable. "It – was just an excuse."

"Harry." Hermione's voice was firm. Harry wasn't any better at lying than she was.

"Well... " He scratched the nape of his neck. "I dreamt about – you know, Voldemort, and he was prowling around a dark area... almost grassy... then..." He grew increasingly fidgety. "Trails of blood... I could smell it, and it made his adrenaline pump... cold, windy place it was... and then suddenly, there was this huge ball of explosion, I could feel his skin singe with the fiery heat..." Harry put his head in his hands, shaking. "It was as if he had – just blown himself apart or something. He was fragmented... he was hot and cold at the same time, painful and exciting... it's just sick how this creature functions." He ended with a sigh of frustration.

"You haven't been practising Occlumency!" Hermione accused.

"It's not as easy as Snape thinks it is," muttered Harry, his head still buried in his palms.

"Can Voldemort know what you're thinking then?"

"I actually don't think so. At the end of last year, Dumbledore told me that when he attempted to possess me last year and failed, I apparently developed some kind of protection against him, even if he seems to have been healed by that strange Healer McGonagall was talking about," replied Harry, massaging his forehead. "If the protection is useless against his healed self, I'm sure Dumbledore would have told me."

"So it's now a one-way thing?"

"But he's been practising Occlumency against me. Ever since last year, I've got nothing from him. It's just that I don't know why this particular vision has slipped through and dominated my dreams the last few nights."

Hermione bit her lip. An explosion – of himself? Could that mean... _the seven cuts across him_?

She shook her head, then saw that Harry was now looking intensely at her. "So what do you have to tell me in private?"

"I – need the password to Dumbledore's office."

Harry was startled. "Is it because of Malfoy?"

Hermione nodded.

"Whatever for?" demanded Harry, dangerously. "I don't like the sound of this. So he has been twisting you around?"

"Who told you about Arithmancy class?" asked Hermione, weakly.

"When we met Zabini just now," said Harry, tersely. "He was being particularly snarky about you. Said something about us better watching_your_ back because when a Death Eater blows hot and cold, he's probably hinting something."

Hermione winced.

"So what does Malfoy need to find Dumbledore for?"

"He doesn't need to look for Dumbledore," said Hermione, honestly. "He needs to look for Fawkes."

"Fawkes?" asked Harry, incredulously.

"I don't know actually," replied Hermione, trying not to sound shaky. "Just after I came out from the library, he cornered me and demanded that I tell him where I knew of a phoenix. As you know," she added, "There are only two domesticated ones in this world."

_I'm giving him credit for something he didn't know!_

"What does he need that piece of information for?" Harry was clearly displeased and worried at the same time.

"He told me not to question him," answered Hermione, softly. She was definitely not used to lying to Harry, and it was hurting her to do so._Why am I doing this? Why am I helping Harry's enemy and hurting Harry instead?_ But when she saw Harry's scathing look, she had a good feeling she was doing the right thing. The next thing she could envision was Harry running towards Draco and giving him a good wallop. And her heart ran cold at the thought of it.

_You're not a murderer. You're not. I can see it in your eyes._

Harry was waiting impatiently for her to elaborate.

"He said if I help him to obtain the password to Dumbledore's office, he would tell me what he is up to. Harry, I beg of you." Hermione's voice was urgent. "Just tell me okay? I don't believe he's going to do anything dastardly, he's just finding out something."

"How can you believe him, Hermione?" Harry was stunned. "He could just take flight and do anything he wished once he's in there and he won't keep to his promise!"

"I'm going in with him."

"That's worse, Hermione, he could kill you in there!"

The thought of Draco killing her sent shivers down her spine. How many times had he already threatened to do that? If she had told Harry about it, he would be dead certain that she was never going near Draco Malfoy again.

But she couldn't tell Harry the truth about anything. He would go to Fawkes first and find out whatever clue that might be there and try to find Wentervale himself. And then Draco's wish to find out the truth about his father's death would fall to pieces.

"Harry?" she asked softly.

He refused to look at her now, his head back in his hands. Hermione gently reached over and pulled his hands away, such that he raised his head to face her.

"Trust me. You sent me to get near him. So trust me."

Harry mumbled something incomprehensible, then he looked away again.

"Please."

He shook his head, then pulled away from her, getting up to walk towards the staircase.

"For your parents, for Sirius, Harry!" Hermione cried out after him, jerking herself out of her seat.

He stopped walking.

Silence.

Hermione could feel herself quivering. Whether it was out of desperation for Harry to answer her, or out of disgust that she was manipulating Harry's emotions to have him give the answer, she really didn't know. And didn't want to know, for that matter.

Then he turned back.

"Neville's favourite plant," Harry muttered, and then his eyes met Hermione. She was suddenly reminded of somebody's glittering silver eyes, but no, this time, she was looking at honest, sad, green eyes that did sparkle with something a little like hope. "You're not the smartest witch in our year for nothing."

Hermione managed a weak smile. "Don't tell Ron and Ginny? They'd think I'm sodding mad." _Or at least Ron would. Ginny would suspect something straightaway._

Harry placed his hand on the doorknob.

"You're not my best friend for nothing," he rasped.

Then Hermione was all alone in the quiet common-room, tears that she had held back for so long spilling down her cheeks, as she sank back in her seat.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Thunder crashed overhead, and birds scattered out of the shaking trees, cawing into the night. Wind stirred up the dry grass, sending a crackling reverberation all around the empty graveyard. Each gust of wind banged against the dark tombstones, _whomp whomp whomp_, like a giant drum being hit relentlessly.

Along with the wind came dust, and the dust particles, leaves, wind, soil circled up into small tornados as they slowly built up till human height... and each whirl revealed a cloaked figure. Slowly, as though sprouting from the ground, they emerged, one by one. One of them cackled a low laughter, the rest turned slowly to face the entrance of the graveyard. Another gust of wind came, stronger and colder than before, almost raking up all the dry leaves that lay scattered around the tombstones to swirl around the figure, who finally revealed himself with arms outstretched.

All the figures bowed, a mark of reverence.

The slit-like eyes of Voldemort scanned the crowd. He had not summoned all, only a few. None of them could really see who the rest were, because they had all arrived hooded. His mangled hand extended out of his flowing sleeve to beckon to one of them. He spoke in a low voice so no others could hear, and the hooded figure before him gave a slight nod. Then he waved him back.

One by one they came forth, and he related his instructions, curtly and concisely.

One of them released a slight demented cackle while listening. Her head bobbed quirkily as Voldemort related his instructions, and she gave a little sniff before dipping to the ground in a little curtsey and retreating back to her position.

The last one came forth, the hood barely concealing the sharp greasy nose.

"How is the boy?" Voldemort's cold voice showed that he was clearly less interested in the subject of his conversation than the mission involved.

"It is still early, my lord," came the impassive reply.

"Keep an eye on him." Voldemort's slit-like eyes became even narrower, almost concealing his ghostly pupils. "But I warn you, I don't take kindly to traitors."

He hissed the last word so loudly that Snape couldn't help flinching. _Did the Dark Lord – know?_

"That boy is no fool. He has come to take his father's place, and he has the talent to become a great wizard," remarked Voldemort, coldly. "But he is also an independent, intelligent young man. You are his mentor and professor. But you will of course understand that you are not the only pair of eyes I've sent to watch this boy."

Snape felt something rise up within him. But he merely bowed his head. "I fully understand."

"Good. Now back."

Snape backed off, closing his eyes as he did. Draco was keeping him in the dark about a lot of things, and if the Dark Lord knew, there might be somebody a step ahead of him to confront Draco, or worse...

His mind was shut, away from the Dark Lord. Severus Snape knew that he was one of the best Occlumens around; why else would Dumbledore get him to teach Potter? And why else would his protege be able to hide his own thoughts so well? But there was a bubbling paranoia that somehow, a crack of that concentration, would just give everything away.

He realised that he was not as paranoid about himself as he was for Draco.

_I beg of you, Severus!_ Narcissa's pleas were churning in his mind. He shut them out immediately.

"Dismissed," said Voldemort, in a low, silky voice.

The gusts of wind came once again, stirring up all the leaves and soil of the ground, littering the neighbouring tombstones with the debris, and within seconds, the graveyard was empty again, accompanied only by the howling of the wind, a flash of lightning across the dark sky, and another crash of thunder.

* * *

**A/N: **A little reminder that whilst this fic is non-HBP compliant, some of the incidents here are taken from HBP (as the subsequent chapter will demonstrate clearly) and DH, just that they follow different plot details and routes.


	14. Pass of the Phoenix

When she was sure that all the girls in her dormitory were fast asleep, Hermione slipped out of bed and put on her Hogwarts robes over her nightdress. Then she tiptoed her way out, across the landing to the boys' dormitories. Having had to meet Harry and Ron countless times in secret to plan for their missions each year, she was always kept informed of the password to their dormitory. Now, she thought sadly, she was doing this without them. And it hurt her.

Stealing past the loud snores and occasional heavy flips on the beds, Hermione crouched by Harry's bed and clicked open his suitcase with the right combination. She felt him stir a little, then flop back on his stomach. Trying to control her heavy breathing, she sneaked out the beautiful shimmering cloth that lay right at the bottom. Harry had given them the password to retrieve his Invisibility Cloak just in case anything happened, bless him for being so trusting. Still, she felt like she was betraying his trust as she stole out of the room with the cloak secured around her. _You're doing this for him!_ Her mind reminded her fiercely.

As she made her way along the corridor, she hoped that Draco had gotten her message. The owl she had picked from the Owlery (Hedwig had been fast asleep and refused to budge) seemed a little disoriented and she hoped it hadn't gone crashing into some windows before sending the letter to Draco, if it did at all.

When she turned the corner, she saw, right at the top of the staircase leading downwards to the Slytherin dungeons, was the familiar figure with his stylish mop of silver-blond hair. He looked impatient, looking around swiftly in all directions.

When she was right in front of him, she divested herself of the Cloak, and Draco was completely startled out of his wits to see her appear out of the blue.

"How did you do that?" he demanded, retreating a few steps as if he had seen a ghost.

Hermione held up the Invisibility Cloak. "I swear if you let Harry know I took this from him for you, you're going to suffer a fate worse than... worse than..." She flushed red trying to think of an alternative.

"Is that an Invisibility Cloak?" His voice was now in awe.

Hermione sighed. "Yes. Now are we ready?"

"I can fit in there with you?" It now held disgust.

"Well if you can't stand being beside a M... a Muggle-born, I suggest you go back down and continue your beauty sleep!" Hermione's voice was scathing.

Draco rolled his eyes and allowed her to drape the Cloak over him. He was now quite aware that her arm was against his, and the familiar scent of strawberry wafted up to his nose again, as they made their way towards Dumbledore's office.

"So how did you get the password?" asked Draco, casually, trying to hold his breath, but failed and ended up drinking in another huge scent of strawberry.

Hermione refused to answer him, trudging on. It was bad enough to lie to Harry; she didn't want to repeat what emotional blackmailing she had to resort to in order to help this twisted, dangerous, manipulative jerk. _Yes, you're a jerk!_ Her anger towards him was snowballing. First she had to keep her friends off the track she was on to ensure things didn't go out of hand, next he was getting all disgusted about being under the same Cloak as her, and now he was trying to provoke her. Whether it was intentional or not, Hermione didn't care. All she cared was to hurry up and get things over with, so that eventually they would come to the right time when she could tell Harry about what was going on.

_And what would Draco Malfoy say to that?_

She was inwardly startled when the thought came, but somehow Draco's breathing distracted her, and she tried not to think of him as they walked awkwardly towards the office. His arm was brushing against hers, and it was completely agonising trying to shift away her focus from the contact.

Draco knew better than to press on, sensing a huge ball of heat that was radiating from her. Clearly, she had gone to some lengths to getting it, and he ought to show some kind of appreciation for her efforts. But he inwardly snorted. Unless she was really that altruistic, why should he give a damn about what she had jumped into? He hadn't coerced her or anything.

Feeling rather disturbed by that thought, he was shaken out of it when Hermione stopped, and he realised they were right in front of the Headmaster's office.

"He's not in?" asked Draco, tentatively, knowing fully well that he couldn't choose this moment to spark off a fuse in Hermione and let her take flight, leaving him to deal with this alone.

Even though he _should_ be dealing with this alone.

"You should hope he is in," replied Hermione, and she was about to say the password when Draco jerked her back roughly, his eyes wide with horror.

"What do you mean I should hope he is in? Granger, what are you talking about? Are you planning to tell that old man what I've told you? You can dream on!"

He was clearly very outraged by the idea, but Hermione shook her head. "You can't approach Fawkes without him there. Harry has been in there many times when Dumbledore left the room to him alone, and Fawkes is never found to be there. Don't ask me why."

"That's ridiculous!" Draco couldn't control his rage, swinging Hermione to face him with his hands gripping her shoulders, startling her so much that she nearly slackened her hold on the Invisibility Cloak. "I'm not having Dumbledore know _anything_ about me! It was a mistake trusting you!" And he reached out to grab the Cloak off him.

"Malfoy, don't be stupid!" cried Hermione, desperately pulling his arm back. "I told you, you can't find any other phoenixes around other than Fawkes!" She had to bite her tongue in order to prevent herself from revealing that Fawkes was the communication channel between Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix. The less Draco knew about the Order, the better.

"And what is Dumbledore going to do?" demanded Draco, seething with rage. "Let a Death Eater go near his beloved pet? Let a Death Eater get close to him, one whose mission is to kill him?"

Hermione paled at that thought. She had forgotten that Draco's first mission was to kill Dumbledore. She was risking Dumbledore's life by leading Draco within close proximity! How could she have forgotten! She had been thinking about the Order, and yet she had completely forgotten about this.

"Oh my..." she whispered, and suddenly her legs gave way and she sank to the ground, pulling an angry Draco along with her, the Cloak falling off them. Luckily, there was no one in the hallway in the dead of the night, but Hermione was past caring.

She had nearly endangered her Headmaster's life. The man whom she, Harry, and Ron respected the most.

"I suppose you forgot." Draco's cold voice cut through her thoughts, his hand ruthlessly brushing her grip off his robes.

Hermione didn't say anything; she just sat there staring at the floor. What could she say?

"Look, forget it," Draco snarled. "We're already out. We might as well get in."

"I can't let you!" Hermione gasped, her voice echoing down the hallway, and Draco immediately pressed his hand to her mouth, his eyes glittering angrily. She instinctively shook his hand away and glared at him piercingly. "I'm not letting you near Dumbledore!"

"I thought you said I wasn't a murderer," said Draco, sneeringly.

Hermione shivered. "But... surely you need to do something to earn some credit with Voldemort, or else he wouldn't let you off so easily."

"I'm not waiting anymore!" hissed Draco, reaching out to grab her arm again. "So what if we wait longer? You're going to find me another phoenix?"

"I'm not your minion!" Hermione cried, as she tried to wrestle her arm out of Draco's strong grip.

"You promised to help!" He was getting angry not so much out of rage but out of desperation and frustration.

"Let go of me!"

"Hermione Granger!"

She stopped struggling and gaped at him.

Draco was heaving madly and looking at her with an indescribable expression on his face.

"What did you..."

Suddenly the floor was vibrating and there was a loud movement, startling Hermione and Draco out of their wits and instinctively turning to their side to see the gargoyle in front of Dumbledore's office vibrate and shift. Hermione clutched at the Cloak; Draco let go of her and stared open-mouthed at the transformation of the original stone wall – it turned along with the gargoyle, revealing a spiral staircase behind it, and standing on the spiral staircase was Professor Albus Dumbledore himself.

"Professor... " Hermione could only stare at him weakly.

Draco shut his mouth, but he, too, stared.

"Miss Granger and Mr Malfoy," said Dumbledore, pleasantly, as if he were wishing them a pleasant good morning. "Please."

He gestured towards the entrance to his office, smiled at them, and then with a flourish, gathered his robes and disappeared through the doors.

Draco looked back at the Cloak on the floor, then he looked back up at the staircase.

Hermione gripped the Cloak, her face completely drained of colour.

Finally, she turned to look at Draco, who was picking himself up to go in. She reached out and grabbed him, sending him a pleading look.

"Don't..." She rasped. "..._Draco._"

He jerked involuntarily at the use of his first name. Looking back at her, she was clearly frightened, desperate, and helpless all at once. She couldn't do anything to stop him now.

He shook off her hand and strode towards the spiral staircase. Hermione stared after him, fear mounting in her heart. _What have I done?_

There was no Harry, no Ron to stand by her. It was her, alone. Alone, because Draco Malfoy would march forward and shout "_Avada Kedavra_!" at Dumbledore any moment. Surely – surely, Dumbledore could counter the magic of a sixth-year, even if he was a Death Eater? After all, Draco was only newly inducted...

Those thoughts were swirling in Hermione's mind as she clutched the Cloak and awkwardly made her way into Dumbledore's office. She had been inside many times. But none of those times felt as cold, painful, terrifying, as this visit was.

Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, a thoughtful look plastered on his face as he eyed the blond-haired boy in front of him. Hermione walked up to stand beside Draco, who had an impassive countenance once again. All his emotions thrown back into the depths of his heart, the back of his mind.

"So," said the Headmaster, in a hearty voice that was rather jarring considering that both Draco and Hermione were on tenterhooks. "May I know what the two of you were doing outside my office in the middle of the night?" His sharp eyes caught the silvery material in Hermione's grip. "And is that Mr Potter's Cloak, Miss Granger?"

Hermione flushed a deep red, while Draco pursed up his lips. So even Dumbledore knew that Potter had such a precious item. Perhaps it was Dumbledore himself who bestowed this gift. Feeling resentful and revengeful all at once, his eyes remained fixed on the crinkled face of Dumbledore. He could feel the wand in his robe pocket. All he had to do was to reach in and pull it out, shout the incantations whilst pointing its tip ahead, in a matter of milliseconds, it would all be over...

"We're looking for Fawkes," said Draco, calmly. Hermione was startled, and nearly lost balance, her eyes now staring at Draco in amazement.

"Fawkes?" Dumbledore leaned back and rolled his eyes to the side to cast a glance at the brilliantly orange-red phoenix that suddenly seemed to glow from the shadows on its perch. "Why would you want to see Fawkes?"

Draco felt the calmness seep away from him; he clenched his teeth. "_Angels of fire no water could soothe._"

The Headmaster raised his eyebrows. Then the smile came back. "Mr Malfoy, you are a very good Occlumens."

Draco instinctively bared his teeth furiously. "Don't try to be funny, Dumbledore!"

"Draco!" Hermione had found her voice as Draco's hand twitched. His entire body flinched once again upon hearing his name from her.

"Mr Malfoy, while you're still in the grounds of my school, I hope that you will display some basic form of courtesy." But when Dumbledore said that firmly, his eyes were twinkling. "And I can assure you that if your anger tips the scales, it is an unwise decision to whip out your wand at me." His gaze travelled to Draco's hand, which was poised to reach within his robes. Draco snarled, and whipped his hand back to his side, his eyes not meeting Dumbledore's. Hermione let out a breath of relief.

"It is a dangerous move you are embarking on, Mr Malfoy," said Dumbledore, his voice suddenly turning grave, and his eyes lost their twinkle as they locked onto the heaving figure of Draco Malfoy, then turned a little gentle as he eyed a trembling Hermione Granger. "I know who you are attempting to look for."

Draco's eyes lit up, but he refused to look at Dumbledore.

"How did you know?" gasped Hermione.

"Mr Potter must have told you that I escaped Hogwarts once through Fawkes, Miss Granger," said Dumbledore, kindly, as he stood up and walked round his desk to stand right before them. "Which is why you are here with Mr Malfoy, is that not so?"

Hermione coloured, and looked at her feet.

"You saw him?" Draco's eyes were in slits now.

Dumbledore nodded.

It was as if a fire had ignited within Draco; he took a step forward, his fists clenched.

Dumbledore sighed. "When I had escaped, I had come to a coastal area. The winds were very strong, howling all around me. There were crashing waves at the side, and I had to leap away to avoid the currents from sweeping inwards and carrying me away. No amount of magic could possibly counter the strength of the tides and winds, and I was feeling very fatigued just walking a few steps when I saw a cave before me."

"Before you carry on, Professor," Hermione gathered up her courage to interrupt. "How did you know you could escape through Fawkes?"

Dumbledore smiled, a little wearily. "I had met Fawkes as a wild phoenix during one of my youth escapades with a friend." The mention of the 'friend' had him sigh a little. "That very friend told me that phoenixes are loyal and can be counted upon in times of need. You could call it instinct, Miss Granger, I frankly have no clue. I was just somehow sure that Fawkes could help me when I needed him to. I always thought I had an affinity with phoenixes," he chuckled. "Given that my Patronus is one."

It was Draco's turn to raise his eyebrows. "So it acts like a Portkey?"

Dumbledore merely looked thoughtfully at Draco. "Perhaps when you wish it to be."

"To carry on," continued Dumbledore. "I was curious as to what was in this cave, so I walked in. Within the cave, there was nobody, nothing. I moved my hands along the rocks, hoping to find some clues around. As I did, I scratched my hand on a jutting edge, and then when the blood flowed out, the rock suddenly responded and started to shift."

Hermione and Draco were holding their breath.

"It led to an opening where there was a stone staircase leading downwards. The further I ventured, the greater the heat. I discovered at the end of the staircase was a huge inferno, a pool of hot, molten lava with fire twisters spurting out every now and then. So I conjured up a rock so that I could stand on it and sail on the lava. When I eventually managed to navigate through the smoke and fire, I saw a very haggard man in the centre, being harassed by many spirits, which I believe to be reanimated corpses, as he tried to cast spell after spell of fire against them."

"The Inferi," Draco whispered, stunned, prompting Hermione to gasp.

"Yes, you are right, Mr Malfoy." Dumbledore closed his eyes. "And they were controlled by You-Know-Who."

Draco hadn't been surprised; he had heard of the Dark Lord using Inferi before to hunt down people. He hadn't seen any of them before, but he wasn't sure whether he'd really like to. Snape had once told him the Inferi were extremely difficult to deal with using magic. Hermione, on the other hand, had only read about Inferi in books, and hadn't truly believed that they really existed. The revelation thoroughly scared her, although she tried to look undaunted as Dumbledore continued.

"But even as he did, the spirits seemed to converge on him time and again. But the man did not stay for long; within seconds of noticing me, he had disappeared behind the flames and mist."

Draco knew who that man was. But what he didn't understand was – if Maldash Wentervale was clearly hounding after that very secret the Dark Lord was keeping, how did the Dark Lord not know his whereabouts? Unless – Draco's eyes widened.

_The Dark Lord knows! He knows where Wentervale is! Is he that beholdened to that rat that he can't kill him personally? Must he send each and every one of his loyal followers to find him and then lead them to their deaths as well?_ The more Draco thought about it, the more he boiled. _And then he will find out that I've come to look for Wentervale!_ Draco's heart almost stopped. _Or was he expecting this all along?_

"Then what did you do, Professor?" Hermione's voice was faint in the background. She had also guessed that the man Dumbledore was referring to had been Maldash Wentervale.

"The Inferi were too many in numbers. I'm afraid that I was unprepared for them and decided it unwise to tackle them. Thus I left," said Dumbledore gravely. "They did not pursue me, and I doubt He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was aware I came, because the Inferi are only protectors – they do not carry messages. As far as I can see, I believe the Inferi were guarding what he must be hiding."

He paused, before continuing. "I am sure that he knows the other intruder came however, since the Inferi had converged upon him. As I did not interfere with their advances... as it is, my sources seem to convey that he knows nothing of my presence there."

He then turned a surprisingly fierce gaze on the two students. "If I may say, even if that's the case, I don't believe either of you are prepared to face the Inferi either. Mr Malfoy, I understand your haste in finding the man I have mentioned; I, too, am quite eager to meet him in person after all his fame. But he remains elusive, and the Inferi are too strong for your current capabilities. Furthermore, there is always a chance that You-Know-Who may be alerted to your presence, and if you are there for no reason of his, I can assure you very serious consequences."

"Then what am I supposed to do?" exploded Draco, who was outraged that Dumbledore was telling him what to do as a Death-Eater. "Sit here and tap my toes?"

Dumbledore looked at him calmly. "Before you approach Fawkes, I want you to do something."

"Oh, so now we're your minions?" Draco snorted furiously.

"I am not a good Legilimens," said Dumbledore, apologetically. "I do not know what your father has told you. But I believe that you have heard of the 'secrets' You-Know-Who entrusts to his followers. It is possibly part of the reason why you are seeking the man, is it not?"

"You know a lot about us, don't you?" Draco barked harshly, swinging himself away from Dumbledore.

"Will you believe me if I said I have a good guess what these secrets are supposed to be?"

Before Draco could respond in amazement, Hermione cut in. "Are there seven in total?"

It was Dumbledore's turn to look surprised. "How did you know exactly how many there are, Miss Granger?"

_Two, two, and three strides._

"What are they?"

Dumbledore looked thoughtfully at her, then he shook his head. "I'm afraid that I cannot give my word upon what they are. You must help me in finding it out. Which is why I'd like the two of you to do something before I allow you upon Fawkes."

"What do you mean?" demanded Draco, his eyes gleaming.

"I believe that Professor Horace Slughorn has a memory which may be of use, and may help us understand more to what these secrets are. Please find a way to ask him to lend me a memory about 'Horcruxes', although I'm quite sure a blatant question would not yield the secret."

"Horcruxes?" Neither Draco nor Hermione had heard of that word.

"It is a very Dark Magic, but I know little about it, even with the book that I have confiscated from the library because the content is too explicit and too risky. But Professor Slughorn has a very good knowledge of it, which unfortunately, he keeps very close to heart."

"How are we supposed to get it out of him if you can't?" Draco shot Dumbledore a bewildered look.

"That is why I am asking you and Miss Granger, both top students of your level, to help me think of a way." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled once again, infuriating Draco. "There are some things at which my students may be better than me. Once you have obtained the information..." He paused. "I may consider taking the two of you along to settle the Inferi. I will not be at ease if I allowed you to go on the mission alone, Mr Malfoy. I will take every precaution possible to make sure You-Know-Who will not be aware of your presence."

Draco was dumbstruck. From having to deal with this personal mission alone, he was going to get his nemesis' best friend – a Mudblood, and the man he was supposed to kill, along with him? This was getting more and more ludicrous. But Draco knew that he was no match for Dumbledore at this moment. If he really wanted to gain that notch of credibility in the Dark Lord's eyes, he couldn't be so impulsive. The fact that Dumbledore was aiding him in his mission was unnerving, let alone the fact that Dumbledore seemed to be aware of what he was doing.

_Is this a ploy to make me weasel out of killing him?_

He stifled a snort, and then made to walk out. His gaze landed on Hermione, but the bushy-haired girl shook her mass of curls, and he growled before striding out of the office.

Hermione looked at Dumbledore, whose look softened. "Yes, Hermione, you have questions?"

"Why – why should I go along?"

"Is this a question directed at me? Or are you seeking reassurance for your decision, Hermione?" Dumbledore gave her a thoughtful look. Embarrassed, Hermione looked to her feet again.

"I – I don't know."

"You are afraid," Dumbledore sighed once again. "You are afraid that choosing to help a Death Eater, what more Harry's arch rival in school, is a betrayal to your friends. I am well aware of what Harry wants you to do, Hermione, and I am quite sure that what you are doing now is well within the lines of your mission."

"But I haven't told Harry _anything_!" Hermione felt helpless admitting that.

"Time will tell." Dumbledore nodded his head. "As far as Draco is concerned, I am quite certain that he will be unable to accomplish what he wants alone. It is amazing how you have managed to convince him to allow you on this personal vendetta of his." He chuckled. "A great step towards inter-house unity, I must say."

Hermione cringed. Did Dumbledore know Draco Malfoy had to kill him? But how could Draco ever stand a chance against Dumbledore?

_Draco?_ She realised she had taken to referring to him by his first name.

"Any further questions, Miss Granger?" His eyes twinkled.

"How did you know that there are seven secrets in total?" After all, Dumbledore had never seen the parchment Lucius Malfoy had written, thought Hermione.

The Headmaster's smile did not leave his face. "You are sharp, Hermione, I should be asking you this question." He cocked his eyebrow at her, but got nothing in return. Sighing, he continued, "But I am afraid that those are my personal means of obtaining information, and therefore am obliged not to divulge them. Although I must commend you both for deciphering whatever line that Draco was uttering just now... something about angels with no fire, I believe? I assure you that I have no idea how he got that line though."

Hermione frowned, then she bit her lip.

"Then, how did you know that Dra- Malfoy has this 'personal vendetta'?"

Dumbledore walked back to his armchair. "There is a reason why I let him come back to school despite knowing that he would become a Death Eater within days of starting his sixth year at school."

"And that is?"

"It's the same reason as you, Hermione. I believe in him."

Something inside Hermione churned, and she couldn't stand there any longer looking at the smiling Albus Dumbledore, almost oblivious to the danger that shrouded him. Instinctively, she turned around and darted out of the office.

Dumbledore stared after her, then he leant back in his chair, eyebrows furrowed together, the smile on his face vanished.

"Dark times, these are..." he mused.


	15. Slug Club Party

When Hermione rushed out of Dumbledore's office, she saw Draco leaning against the wall in front. His head snapped up upon seeing her, but then he turned away again. His fists were clenched, his robes were dishevelled along with his usually-immaculate hair, and he was breathing heavily.

Hermione didn't know whether to be thankful or worried that he hadn't charged upon Dumbledore.

"If you're going to ask me why I didn't do it, you can forget about it."

"I'm not going to ask," she said sharply. "You're clearly not Dumbledore's match at this point in time."

She was rubbing salt into his wounds, and he snarled a little.

"I suppose you're still here so that we can figure out how to get that memory of Horcruxes," Hermione said, unfolding the crumpled piece of the Invisibility Cloak from her hand. "Whatever they are," she added.

In Draco's mind, he was wondering if asking Severus Snape to help him ask Horace Slughorn would be a good idea. But then that meant having to tell Snape everything, and actually the less Snape knew, the better. He was still straddled in a very difficult and dangerous position between the two sides, and Draco, for all his earlier hostility to his professor, had a high regard for him and thought it best to leave him out of too much suspicion.

Hermione then whipped the Cloak around them again, and they sat down against the wall along the empty corridor. Draco's look of fury hadn't left his face.

"As a matter of fact," Hermione continued. "Slughorn's been inviting people to join his Slug Club."

"His what?" Draco's face contorted into a look of disgust.

"Actually I haven't told you this, since it appeared unrelated," said Hermione, shrugging. "Slughorn's been persuaded out of retirement by_both_ Professor Dumbledore and Harry."

"What's Potter got to do with that Slug?"

Hermione looked at him reprovingly. "All Dumbledore told Harry was that Slughorn was once a Potions professor at Hogwarts and had retired, but remains a very important person he wished to have in Hogwarts, and Harry said it was his sharp eyes that noticed something was wrong in the furniture at Slughorn's house and poked an armchair which Slughorn popped out of."

Draco wasn't bemused by this little scene, at which Hermione was trying to stifle a grin. "And so why does he have to send us on this mission instead of dear little Potter?"

"I would presume he initially did want Harry to do this," replied Hermione, immediately frowning. "But it seems that this Horcrux-whatever-thing that Slughorn knows about is related to what you are looking for."

Draco's eyes lit up. "O-kay... then what's this thing about a Slug Club?"

"So anyway," Hermione continued with her narration, blatantly avoiding answering his question directly. "Slughorn was thrilled to know that he could teach the famous Harry Potter." Draco rolled his eyes. "And Dumbledore apparently offered better pay and better staff welfare, so he agreed to come out of his retirement for a few more years. When he was on the train platform at King's Cross, he's been talking non-stop to Harry, Ron and I about some club that he wishes to form, so we nicknamed it the Slug Club." Hermione screwed up her nose in disgust. "It's some elitist thing – like a party to get to know one another, but it's all the people with fame and all. So Ron and I are tagged along with Harry because we're the bunch of 'adventurous and clever' friends of The Famous Harry Potter."

There was no sound of resentment in her voice; she had stated it matter-of-factly. But the resentful one was Draco Malfoy. Weren't the Malfoys 'famous' enough? How dare Slughorn exclude Draco Malfoy from the list of elites in Hogwarts? Besides, Slughorn was from Slytherin House!

"And if you're wondering why you're not on the list, it's probably because you're a Death Eater." Hermione said candidly.

Damn, she had a way of reading his mind so uncannily.

"So there's that rich and snobbish fellow Cormac McLaggen from seventh year whose been tussling with Ron for Keeper position lately, and there's Susan Bones from Hufflepuff because her aunt's with the Ministry," said Hermione. "He even went up to Luna to ask her once he overheard us saying that her dad's with the Quibbler. But he completely ignored Neville who was with her, and later just brushed past the other Gryffindor girls."

"You clearly haven't taken a liking to him." Draco's mouth twitched upwards. "So have you been to one of these divine Slug parties?"

"Not yet." Hermione pondered for a moment. "In fact, it totally slipped my mind – it's tomorrow night!"

Draco sat up straight; the Cloak nearly shifted off them, but Hermione grabbed it back again. "Tomorrow night?" Slughorn was perpetually elusive; the only times Draco ever saw him were in class and at mealtimes – there were times when he was missing as well, but nobody saw it to their duty to fetch him, and he didn't seem to complain. In fact, he seemed quite happy and bloated and it was as if he was on a holiday coming back to Hogwarts rather than working. The best time to catch Slughorn for a memory would have to be this Party. But how could they do it such that he would lend them the memory willingly?

"I'll think of something," said Hermione, quickly. Then she bit her lip, before she looked up at Draco. He noticed that her eyes were shining, just like they did when she told him she had a plan. So he cocked his eyebrow at her, waiting for her to continue.

"Meet me at the side corridor near where we patrol, tomorrow just before eight. There's no patrol tomorrow, remember? Thanks to Slughorn's party." She was having some trouble controlling her breathing. "I'll pass you the Cloak again, and you can enter Slughorn's party with it."

Draco was about to pass some snide comment about how it was unbecoming of a Malfoy to have to attend an elite party by sneaking in, when he realised something and scowled. "Can't trust me enough to let me keep the Cloak, can you?"

"Yes, I don't trust you to keep it overnight," snapped Hermione, surprising him with her vehemence. "But I trust that you put it to good use at Slughorn's party and not do something stupid with it. It should come back in one piece, the same Cloak, into my hands after the party ends."

"You're queer," Draco found himself blurting it out, then felt rather annoyed at himself for saying that. Hermione merely shrugged and started to stand up, but she wobbled a bit, and almost fell onto Draco before his arms shot out and held her arms.

Her face was just inches away from him, and he could smell that familiar scent again. But it was those eyes that he was staring at that while startled, seemed to convey a sense of warmth and familiarity that he hadn't really experienced before. Quite uncomfortable, he immediately jumped up and balanced her, shaking his hands off her while maintaining an expression of contempt. For a fleeting moment, he thought he saw her look a little disappointed, before she scowled and straightened down her robes.

"Now can we go back to sleep? I have Transfiguration early in the morning and I have no wish to be late!"

Her commanding voice almost made Draco snigger, but he thought better of it, and held his arm out in a mock gesture. As Hermione walked, he found himself supporting the Cloak, since he was taller than her. They crept round the corner to the Slytherin dungeons, before he slipped out and started to walk down the staircase without casting her a glance.

"...Draco?"

His head snapped up, and he glared at nothing in particular. "Can you stop calling me that?" He hissed. He certainly wasn't used to any non-Slytherin referring to him by his first name. It felt almost – intimate.

"Why not?" Hermione cocked her head to one side as her head popped out of the Cloak. "I find it an address of civility. Unless you're so arrogant that you actually find me calling you that demeaning. I thought somebody actually mentioned my first name just now anyway. Anyway – goodnight."

He gave her a scathing look, before he vanished downstairs.

Hermione stared after him for a moment. Then she put the Cloak over her head and made her way hastily back to the Gryffindor common-room. The moment morning arrived, she'd have plenty to do for the day.

-.-.-.-.-.-

The next morning was amazingly lucky for Hermione, considering she hadn't downed anything like a bottle of Felix Felicis; there were no questions from Harry as to whether or not the password to Dumbledore's office had been utilised or whether Draco had come to tell her about what he needed the password for. She had to thank her lucky stars that both Harry and Ron had repeated what they did on the first lesson in their first year – by coming to Transfiguration class late. Professor McGonagall was highly displeased by their tardiness.

"I suppose as sixth-year students, you should be more than disciplined enough to realise how important coming to lessons on time are," said Professor McGonagall thinly. It wasn't that she was being difficult to them; how often had Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley saved Hogwarts from dangerous situations? But she couldn't let the two of them have their own way just because they did noble things. Fairness was one of those things that was dissipating out of the wizarding world with the impending war; it was the least she could do to preserve some form of it.

_Yes, war,_ Professor McGonagall thought with a heavy heart. _It is probably coming._

Harry and Ron had gone extremely scarlet in the face, and for the rest of the lesson, did not raise their heads from the tables at all. As they had come late, they had been banished to the last few tables, away from Hermione. As soon as the bell rang for the next class, Hermione had dashed off to Ancient Runes class whilst the others had a free period. Again, thankfully, she was left to herself since classes were with the Ravenclaws. After which, there was Defence Against the Dark Arts with the Slytherins, whereby Snape had set a surprise test upon arrival at the classroom, so nobody could talk, and Hermione didn't even dare to cast a glance over to the Slytherin side. By the time they were done and had shuffled out of the classroom, Harry had grabbed her elbow and dragged her to one side before she could even spot Draco in the midst of the Slytherins.

Hermione was startled, but she obediently kept quiet on seeing Harry's pressed finger to his lips, and then he ushered her towards the end of the castle, where they, Ron and Ginny had always gathered to talk during their breaks.

"Where's Ron?" asked Hermione, once Harry had sat them both down.

"I told him I wanted to pay Hagrid a visit," said Harry, pushing up his spectacles. "So, how did last night go?"

Hermione – even though she was prepared for the question – found herself not being able to say anything when Harry had asked, and stared at him blankly. Before Harry could question her again, there was a pattering of footsteps behind them, and both of them turned to see Ginny running towards them with a big smile on her face.

"Aren't you two going to get ready for Slughorn's party later?"

"You're going, Ginny?" asked Hermione, surprised.

Ginny nodded, smiling brilliantly. "Harry asked me to go as his partner."

Hermione gasped, jumping up. "I've forgotten we've to bring a partner!"

Harry blinked, instantly forgetting what he and Hermione were sitting there for. "Oh. Yeah you can't ask Ron since he's invited too. He managed to get Lavender. You can – erm..." He looked at Ginny for help.

"Why don't you ask Neville?" offered Ginny.

In Hermione's mind, it would have been such a brilliant opportunity to get Draco into the party as well.

Except that he happened to be Draco Malfoy. Which just about ruined everything.

So Hermione made her way to the Gryffindor common-room feeling unexpectedly nervous. After all it was her first time having to ask someone to be her partner at a party; at the Yule Ball it had been Krum to ask her out. When Neville was asked, he smiled warmly and promptly agreed, only to be accosted by Corrinne Whitemayer who was standing nearby chatting with Parvati.

"What's this about a party?" demanded Corrinne, tilting her head over to look at Hermione with a curious expression.

Hermione felt really bad to have to tell Corrinne about a party she was not invited to, but she was saved from the awkwardness when Lavender came bounding down in her robes – but with noticeably permed curls trailing down her neck. Although Slughorn had stated that the dress code was to remain school robes (thankfully, considering Hermione didn't feel like dressing up), apparently Lavender had made up her own hair code.

"What on earth did you do to your hair?" squealed Parvati. "It's gorgeous!"

"I'm attending Slughorn's party with Ron," said Lavender, beaming, her curls bouncing as she came to a stop in front of all of them. Then she turned her gaze to a startled Hermione and a sheepish-looking Neville. "Oh, Hermione, are you asking Neville to go with you?"

Corrinne's face took on a frowning expression, but Hermione hurriedly told Neville to get ready, while she dashed back into her dormitory to neaten her frizzy hair. Once she was done looking at herself in the mirror, her hand instinctively shot out to the first drawer on her dressing-table. Taking a deep breath, she opened the drawer and took out the shimmery cloth with shaking fingers. She stared at it for a good while, before tucking it into the inner pocket of her robe, and then proceeded back to the common-room.

Harry, Ginny, Ron, Lavender and Neville were all waiting for her downstairs. Hermione muttered an apology for keeping them waiting and the six of them made their way towards the hall where Slughorn had booked for his party. Along the way, Hermione excused herself to the bathroom – Neville had offered to wait, but she insisted he wait at the doorway of the party. Harry threw her a suspicious glance, but she smiled and walked off briskly. When she came to the side corridor, she swung herself in hurriedly, and almost bumped into something – or someone.

"Watch where you're going!" hissed Draco.

Hermione quickly backed off, muttering an apology. She brought out the Cloak from her pocket and thrust it at Draco. "Don't you dare do anything funny with it, it comes back to my possession after the party!"

"Yes, Miss Granger," mocked Draco, giving her a look of exasperation. "In case you have forgotten, you haven't told me what the big plan is supposed to be."

"It's a party," said Hermione, folding her arms. "And Slughorn's offered Firewhisky."

"You people are underaged!" Draco shot her a smirk. "So the Slug's breaking a school rule?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "He's the head of Slytherin House."

"So what, you're planning on drowning him in it?" Draco offered, sarcastically. "You might conk out before he does!"

"I didn't say anything about drinking Firewhisky _myself_," retorted Hermione.

"I'll be interested to know what you're up to," shot back Draco, as he whipped the Invisibility Cloak over him. Hermione gave a huff before she turned and marched off towards the hall. It felt weird to know that he was trailing behind her, but at the same time, it gave her a sense of security.

"By the way..." Draco's voice floated to her ear, and she glared back at where she figured he was.

"Can you not talk?" she hissed.

"I was just going to ask who you were going..." He noted all the couples walking towards the party venue, and stopped short when Hermione did. Before he opened his mouth further, he realised she had stopped for Neville Longbottom to offer her his arm shyly.

_Neville Longbottom? Granger picked Longbottom?_

Feeling something erupt at the pit of his stomach, Draco clenched his teeth as Hermione completely immersed herself in small talk with Neville as they entered the hall. There were many people there despite Hermione saying it was a selective club, but since everyone was asked to bring partners, there was a doubling of attendance, and Slughorn himself was right in the middle of the attention, soaking up everything like a big, fat sponge.

Hermione had pulled Neville over to Slughorn to greet him out of courtesy, so Draco hung back in the corner of the hall to maintain a keen eye over the crowd. He wondered what Hermione was really planning, and conceded that if not for her, he wouldn't have been able to think of a way to get to Slughorn so quickly. Then again, judging by the crowd, it seemed a bit hard to get Slughorn on his own. One moment he was being all exuberant over Harry Potter and his friends, the other moment he was swept up by the haughty Cormac McLaggen and his tale of Quidditch antics. Draco tried not to chuckle seeing carrot-haired Weasley grow purple on hearing McLaggen's exploits, given that Weasley was now on the team but Slughorn was paying less attention to him.

_Weasley's only there because of Potter_, thought Draco, smirking. But then again – so was Hermione Granger. Slughorn was still Slytherin after all, and it was strange how he had allowed a Mudblood to attend such a party.

Draco figured if he thought about the attendance any longer, he'd explode with the resentment that Slughorn had not invited him.

His eyes trained onto Hermione as she introduced Slughorn to Neville, who was looking rather bumbling and awkward (as he always did), but Slughorn didn't seem very interested, instead lavishing praises onto Hermione and turning her tomato red in the face. Draco felt considerably bored by all these gestures. They meant nothing, nothing in the grand scheme of things, where he was just here to get something for that old fogey in the office so he'd grant them permission to use Fawkes. Permission! Draco scoffed at the thought. Like he was a first-year student all over again and needed permission. From the very man the Dark Lord wanted him to kill.

Thinking about that made Draco pale.

_This is insane, I can't think about anything!_ He gritted his teeth. To his amazement, he noted that Hermione had ushered Slughorn to one corner where the Firewhisky was being served in a limited number of jugs, while the Butterbeer was going in free flow thanks to a charmed tap. Longbottom was told to go talk to the Loony Lovegood, who seemed rather serene and unaware that her date, a rather flustered-looking Ernie MacMillan, had abandoned her company for the more sane Ravenclaws at the party.

As Hermione talked to Slughorn, Draco was getting increasingly impatient. He couldn't hear what they were saying, and he was itching to find out why Slughorn's happy mask was being peeled apart slowly; first, he was smiling in a very patronising manner, then his eyes seemed to take on a different shine, and then he was biting his lips, and then he looked at Hermione in an incredulous manner. It was all and well that the students were at the Slug Club just to enjoy themselves at the party, and none of them really took notice of Slughorn's absence in the middle of the floor. Draco's gaze switched to Potter and Weasley – with Potter and his girlfriend laughing together near the chocolate fountain, and Weasley having a hard time trying not to look bored by Lavender Brown's incessant chatting. His eyes flitted back to Hermione, and saw that her eyes were darting around furtively to see if anyone was watching her. Quickly, he took out his wand and aimed at Hermione and Slughorn.

Hermione's mouth curved into the familiar 'O' shape as the two of them slowly blended into the background once the charm took effect.

Okay, now that he did this, it was probably even harder to keep track of what Hermione was doing to Slughorn.

Or even – what Slughorn might do to her.

His eyes flew wide open at the thought. Snarling to himself, he jumped out from the corner and tried to manoeuvre his way towards the other corner of the room. With the mass of bodies all around, it was quite hard to move without touching anybody, and he cursed inwardly when he heard someone squeal, "Who's that?", and was thankful when said girl got whisked off into a dance before she could complain further. When he finally reached the other end of the room, he noticed that the Firewhisky glasses that belonged to Hermione and Slughorn were now empty.

Draco stared. The chairs they had been sitting on were now pushed in; they were clearly no longer here.

Feeling a surge of panic rise up within him, Draco spun around to scan the crowd. Potter and the Weaselette were now dancing in bliss with the music being played in the background, whilst Weasley appeared to have abandoned his date and was spotted lurking in the shadows near where Longbottom and Lovegood were. There was no sign of Hermione Granger.

Frustrated, he tried to make his way through the crowd to the centre with his wand pointing out of his robes, uttering the counter-spell to the Disillusionment Charm, hoping that somehow he could unveil the two of them. All logic was falling apart; all he knew was that he needed to find her.

Unfortunately, his exposed wand was extended further than he intended to, and it poked somebody just as that particular somebody had moved backwards.

"Ouch!"

This time Draco was not so lucky; the offended somebody was not whisked away. Instead he found himself face-to-face with Harry Potter himself, who was staring confounded at an empty space. Before Draco could move an inch, the next thing he knew, the Invisibility Cloak had been whipped off him. Gasping, Draco reached out for it, but Harry's reflexes were equally good, and perhaps faster in this instance.

Draco looked up at a horrified Harry, accompanied by a bewildered Ginny Weasley. Then he straightened himself up, whilst Harry had now turned his attention to the Cloak that he had snatched off Draco, and stared at it like he couldn't believe it was in his eyes.

"This is my Cloak!" were Harry's first words.

"What are _you_ doing here?" demanded Ginny, in a low voice, glaring at Draco. "You're not on the invitation list!"

Suddenly, even though Ginny had not been very loud, people started to notice the uninvited guest in their midst. His silvery-blond hair was unmistakeable.

Draco was completely unnerved by the revelation of his presence, but he tried to keep his cool and managed a smirk at Harry and Ginny. "I invited myself; it's such a splendid party not to be missed, isn't it? I mean, if the measly poor Weasleys can get their ways in here, why shouldn't a _Malfoy_ be part of the..."

He was stopped halfway by the oncoming bullet of a Ron Weasley, who had surged forward to grab a handful of his robes, startling Draco, and drawing gasps from the crowd.

"I dare you to repeat that again, ferret!" seethed Ron, boiling mad.

Draco was more than happy to do so, if not for the fact that his gaze had landed upon a bushy-haired figure at the doorway. He stared.

Hermione Granger.

She turned around and took a quick turn out of his sight. Immediately, Draco twisted himself out of Ron's grip and started after her. Ron reached out and grabbed him again, yelling, "You bloody Death –", but Harry jumped in and pushed the two of them apart. Ron gaped at his best friend as Draco darted out of the way, through the crowd who had parted to let him go like the Red Sea. As soon as Draco had disappeared, Ron turned on Harry.

"What'd you let him go for!" demanded Ron, angrily. "He just gatecrashed and insulted..."

"He wasn't here just to gatecrash for fun." Harry stared at the Invisibility Cloak that he quickly tucked into his robes. "He was here for something."

"That's your Cloak, Harry!" hissed Ginny, and Ron's eyes widened. "He used your..."

"If neither of you took it for him, then Hermione must have!" Harry was agitated, and swung around. "Where's Professor Slughorn?"

Everybody turned around to scour for him, but nobody spotted him. Harry gave a frustrated grunt as he turned and dragged Ron and Ginny out of the hall. They looked down the hallways, but Draco Malfoy was now completely out of sight.

"Hermione?" Ron's voice was incredulous. "What the hell did she take it for?"

Harry felt that it wasn't time to disclose what Hermione had told him, so he merely shrugged and sagged.

Ginny narrowed her eyes at him, but he refused to look at her.

"Let's go look for Hermione then!" cried Ron, impatiently. "What are we still doing here?"

Harry pursed up his lips. "No, wait."

He thought back to what Hermione had told him. What she had asked from him. His eyes lit up.

"Let's just get to Dumbledore's office. I have a feeling we'll get answers there!"

As Harry pulled them both along, Ron was completely bewildered. "Dumbledore's office?"

"Let's just go," said Ginny, firmly, looking at Harry as they quickened their pace.

-.-.-.-.-.-

"_Mimbulus mimbletonia!_"

The stone gargoyle began to shift.

"Granger!"

Hermione didn't flinch, and she began to make her way up to Dumbledore's office, a vial clutched tightly in her hand.

"Wait, wait!" Draco Malfoy's panting could now be heard as he caught up with her at the foot of the staircase. "What the hell did you..." and then he trailed off upon seeing the vial in her hands. "You got it? Slughorn's memory is in there?"

"I'm not as pathetic as you think I am," muttered Hermione, and turned to continue her ascend.

"Look!" Draco found himself quite flustered. "You – you okay?"

Hermione looked at him in surprise. "Should I not be?"

It was now Draco's turn to feel rather hot. "Erm, well..."

"Don't you want to go find Wentervale?"

That was enough to galvanise Draco to pick himself up and advance towards Dumbledore's office. He just hoped she wouldn't notice that the Invisibility Cloak was no longer with him.

"That was quick, the both of you."

Dumbledore turned around to greet both of them with that infuriating smile of his, or at least, it felt so to Draco. Hermione proudly handed over the vial, which Dumbledore uncorked and tipped over to a Pensieve by the side. "We shouldn't waste anymore time then."

"Professor..." Hermione began, but Dumbledore waved her words away.

"Come over." He pointed to the Pensieve. "You don't have to put your head inside, you can just watch from here, it'll be enough."

Hermione and Draco, overcome by curiosity, came to lean over the Pensieve. Within the whirling waters, images began to unfold.

_"Professor, I want to know something."_

"Well, go on, boy!" Slughorn's booming voice emerged. The eyes of Slughorn were now set on a scrawny-looking boy with a pale face and tired eyes. But within those eyes, there was fire.

"I want to know about Horcruxes."

Slughorn must have sat up suddenly, for the image jerked a bit.

"It's Dark Magic, my boy," whispered Slughorn, suddenly clearly frightened. "No one should know about it!"

"I've read about it in the library. I just want to understand more, nothing more than that, sir."

Slughorn cleared his throat, clearly hesitant to part with this information. "It's Dark Magic that involves splitting your soul into fragments – which can be encased in objects, people, animals... but it can only be achieved if someone commits a violent act... sometimes testing the boundaries of morality..."

"Like murder?" The boy's voice held no emotion.

Slughorn gulped.

Suddenly the waters began to swirl once again, and the images disappeared.

Hermione and Draco stared at the Pensieve, unable to utter a word.

"Was that –" Draco found himself choking.

"Yes," said Dumbledore, grimly, turning away from the Pensieve. "That was Tom Riddle when he was still at Hogwarts. Also known as Lord Voldemort."

Draco flinched.

"Previously, Horace only gave me a modified memory. He completely eliminated that part. I'm curious how you managed to coax this out of him, Miss Granger." Dumbledore winked at her, causing her to blush furiously. Then he looked serious. "This is very Dark Magic, and Horace must have felt guilty for revealing this to Tom; otherwise, I cannot see how the boy was able to really understand the true meaning of a Horcrux just by reading the book – that I have now banned from the library, of course."

"Is this what the _seven cuts across him_ is supposed to mean?" Hermione turned towards Draco, light dawning upon her. "Voldemort cut his soul into seven fragments – in other words, seven Horcruxes!"

Dumbledore's eyebrows furrowed together. "I have a theory that yes, You-Know-Who has created several Horcruxes because of his desire for immortality, which has resulted in the unstable state he has become now, that ghostly face and withering presence. However, I have had no idea how many he has created exactly."

Hermione kept quiet. Draco spoke up instead.

"That is only our theory," he countered, sharply.

Dumbledore nodded understandingly. "It proves useful, in my opinion. It seems to me that both of you are quite sure. I am quite confident now that what the Inferi was attempting to protect, and what the man I saw was trying to retrieve – would most probably be one of the Horcruxes."

_A labryinth of secrets, a ring of truth._ Those must be the other two Horcruxes Voldemort created.

But first of all, they had to tackle the first Horcrux hint presented to them in the form of Fawkes.

"You've to keep to your promise!" Draco was unable to hold in his anticipation.

"Yes, I will," said Professor Dumbledore, smiling, and he held out his arm. Fawkes came sailing through the air to land gracefully on his arm, the plume of the beautiful phoenix dazzling both students' eyes. "Now place both of your hands on my arm, will you?"

Hermione immediately reached out, her gaze turning to Draco, who looked long and hard at Dumbledore. Then his hand reached out tentatively to touch Dumbledore; he was trying really hard against pulling back and whipping out his wand to point at the Headmaster... and wishing that there was some kind of poison in his veins that could pump towards Dumbledore's arm... yet, without him, he might never get the chance to see Wentervale and find out from him the circumstances of Lucius Malfoy's death... and the secrets of the Dark Lord...

"One..." Dumbledore looked at both of them, his eyes twinkling. "Two..."

"Three."

-.-.-.-.-.-

"I don't understand why the password doesn't work!" exploded Harry, thumping his fists onto the stone gargoyle, only to retreat in agony.

Ginny rushed forward to rub his hands, her expression pained. "Harry, don't do this! How do you know..."

"She's in there, with Draco Malfoy!" Harry couldn't hold it in any longer. Ron and Ginny stared at him, completely flabbergasted.

"What..." Ron began, only to notice the approaching figure of Professor McGonagall, who was hurried in her footsteps.

"Professor McGonagall!" Harry felt relief upon seeing her. "Could you tell me..."

"I'm afraid not, Mr Potter," said Professor McGonagall stiffly, as she came to a halt in front of them. "The Headmaster has just changed his office password, and I am not aware of the new password he has put into place."

Harry stared at her in disbelief. "If you're not aware, how did you know?" And as an afterthought, added, "Professor?"

Professor McGonagall didn't look pleased to be shot this question. "I was informed that Professor Dumbledore needed to leave the castle for a while, and thus, I am to be in charge during this short period of time. But he wished to retain privacy of his office, so as such, this is all I can say."

Before Harry could argue, she raised up her hand. "I came to inform the three of you that Miss Hermione Granger is accompanying the Headmaster on a trip he has to make, for reasons that I am not aware of either, except that her safety will not be compromised."

Ron gaped, while Harry immediately asked, "Is Malfoy with them?"

Professor McGonagall pursed up her lips. "That was all I was told to tell the three of you, so I would like to point out that it is nearing bedtime. The party Professor Slughorn has organised," she mentioned it with a hint of distaste, "has exceeded the time limit it was allocated, and I'm afraid that I must send all of you back to your common-rooms."

With that, she flicked her robes behind her and turned back towards where she came from.

"Hermione's with Dumbledore, on something _without us_!" Ron gasped, and then he rounded upon Harry. "You knew she was up to something with him, didn't you? And what's this with Malfoy possibly being with them?"

"Let's get back to the common-room," said Ginny, hurriedly, as she stared at Harry's peaked face.

"I demand an explanation," said Ron, in a low, dangerous voice.

"Common-room," said Harry, hardly breathing, as Ginny took his arm and led the both of them back to the Gryffindor common-room. There was a lot of explanation to be done. Meanwhile, in his thumping heart, he could only pray hard that he hadn't sent Hermione into some really sticky situation.


	16. The Quest Begins

The waves were crashing against the large rocks, sending sprays all over. A thick mist lay low, making the area seem gloomy and miserable. The wind gave a tremendous howl and nearly knocked Hermione off her feet if not for the fact that she was still gripping onto Dumbledore's arm.

"Let us proceed," came Dumbledore's calm voice, even though Hermione could barely see him. She turned to her left and could barely make out the figure of Draco, who was no longer holding onto Dumbledore. As they moved on, she found his silhouette blurring, and reached out to grab onto him.

"Granger!" came the familiar hiss, and he shook her off.

"Stay close," she whispered.

He grunted and moved closer. When the mist swirled around them and seemed to thicken, he had no choice but to place his arm on her shoulder. Hermione jerked a little when his hand came into contact with her. It was rather chilly, and they had only their school robes over their uniform given that the wintry weather at Hogwarts was over. Draco scowled as he moved along with Dumbledore and Hermione. Between them, to have his hand led by them, he'd rather Granger any day than Dumbledore.

_What am I saying?_

He could feel her shudder under his touch – he wasn't sure whether it was out of shock or because she was cold. But when he could feel the chill eat into his skin, he figured that she was probably freezing too. His grip on her shoulder tightened.

The cave that Dumbledore had mentioned came into sight as the mist faded a bit. Dumbledore whispered something, and a fair deal of the mist cleared. He hurried them along the rocks, as much as they could amidst the strong winds, and the large amounts of sea spray which were drenching the left halves of their bodies as well as the rocks they were on.

When they were finally in the shelter of the cave, Hermione couldn't really feel her limbs; everything before her was blurred by water – thanks to the irritating sea spray. She blinked twice and nearly lost her balance, if not for Draco's arms catching her before she hit the ground.

She almost wanted to chide him for touching her, but her head was swimming, and her legs refused to straighten. She felt herself being lowered down slowly to the ground, and then Draco's voice boomed at the side,

"I don't think she's ready to go in."

She wanted to protest; she had to go in. But Dumbledore seemed to agree with Draco, and then she felt Draco sink down beside her, while Dumbledore paced the length of the cave, his fingers trailing the walls of the cave.

"Granger!" She was startled by someone shaking her shoulder. Her hand reached up to grip her forehead, and she shook miserably. To her surprise, a fire lit up in front of her, crackling merrily despite the dampness of the cave, and the heat was so welcoming that it brought a little smile to her face as she stared at the licking flames.

There was a long silence, before Hermione eventually felt the load pressing down in her head slowly disappear, and she could feel the heat of the flames warming her limbs. Dumbledore looked down kindly at her, and offered a hand. "Miss Granger, I assume you are ready?"

Hermione nodded, and began to scramble up, whilst the fire disappeared to reveal the cold, damp atmosphere of the cave once again. Draco's hands were outstretched, as if to catch her again, but she turned around and gave him a small smile. Startled, Draco retrieved his hands, sticking them into his robes and looked sullen all over again.

"I must warn the two of you," said Dumbledore, as he raised his palm over the rocks. "That I still feel that you are not qualified enough to undertake any challenges that Voldemort may have put in place to guard his Horcruxes – " He cocked an eyebrow to a sour-looking Draco, who clearly did not appreciate being underestimated. "So please obey me when I bid you to retreat or leave. I don't need heroes in there."

Hermione nodded fervently while Draco eyed Dumbledore suspiciously.

"Why would Fawkes lead you directly to Wentervale if it was only a Portkey? How did Wentervale know Fawkes _was_ a Portkey?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Remember I said that it only acts as one when I want it to? Perhaps it knew what I wanted to look for to get rid of all the bad elements in the wizarding world. Merlin's beard, how naive I sound now! As for Wentervale, he is a very clever man, that is all I can say."

The Headmaster then ran his hand swiftly down one of the jagged edges of the rock, drawing a gasp from Hermione, and Draco's head snapped up. There was blood trailing down Dumbledore's hand, and Hermione was about to pull out her wand, only to be stopped by a slight shaking of the head from Dumbledore, as he placed the bloody hand on the side of a flat rock.

There was an earth-shattering sound as the rock moved. Hermione and Draco instinctively covered their ears and tried to maintain their balance as the whole place started to vibrate. The rock moved to reveal an entrance that was filled with mist. Dumbledore calmly made his way through the mist curtain, while Hermione hesitated before trudging in thereafter. So many thoughts were bombarding Draco's mind as he entered behind her, only to be jerked out of them with another booming sound followed by the closure of the door. He stared blankly at the sealed exit, then gritted his teeth and began the descent down the slippery and narrow staircase.

The cold didn't last long. Slowly, but surely, there were gusts of warmth which slowly became balls of heat blowing their way, and Draco started to feel very uncomfortable. He could see that Hermione was feeling the same way, because she was constantly tugging at the collar of her uniform. Dumbledore seemed to be quite unperturbed however and Draco cursed inwardly at how he seemed completely impervious to anything.

It wasn't long before they had reached the same place where Dumbledore had arrived at on his first trip; but to Draco's surprise – since he was expecting a sea of lava from what Dumbledore had narrated, as well as due to the heat – there was only water. It was like an underground pool. The water was lapping at the end of the staircase, and Draco could barely see beyond the staircase to what was in the middle of the pool.

"He's not here," said Dumbledore, waving his wand to conjure up a small platform that could fit all three of them on it. "And I believe it is of paramount importance that we find him first."

When Draco got onto the platform with Hermione, he saw that in the middle of the pool, was a small landing, with a huge basin on top of it. But Dumbledore caught him staring, and firmly reiterated that they were to find Maldash Wentervale first, or at least clues to where he might have been.

"Assuming that Wentervale has yet to get his hands on the Horcrux here," said Dumbledore, as they floated along the side of the cave. "It is best to find out what he knows so far, rather than risk our lives battling the Inferi. There may be more traps than our naked eye can see, so we must be cautious."

Draco was about to argue, his breath caught in desperation as he eyed the basin, but Hermione tugged at his robe sleeve, giving him a warning glare. He swallowed back his retorts, and maintained a grim sneer on his face. Dumbledore was right after all; there was nobody in the world right now that Draco wanted to see so much as Maldash Wentervale. He was the key to everything that Draco wanted to know. Or at least, most of it. Draco's eyes remained fixed on the huge basin as they sailed further away from it.

"Why would Wentervale be staying here if Voldemort can find him so easily?" whispered Hermione. There was another narrow landing ahead, and Dumbledore directed the platform towards it.

"I don't believe Wentervale stays here," replied Dumbledore, in an unusually cheerful tone. "But I believe there is something around here that allows him to enter with ease but prevents He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named from going through."

"How can Wentervale be so powerful?" demanded Draco, finally speaking up.

"That is a question we must ask him, I'm afraid," said Dumbledore, grimly. "But I should think he will not last much longer, since he has an incurable disease which even his powerful Healing skills are unable to tackle. He has been in hiding for very long, and with not much supplies I believe, hence he cannot stay that strong for long."

"But Professor, you said he Disapparated the last time you saw him," countered Hermione.

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, he didn't Disapparate. There are anti-Apparition wards here, as I encountered myself in my previous trip. It was only outside that I was able to Apparate to safety where I could meet with the – " He threw Draco a glance, then continued rather heartily. "The people I trust. During Umbridge's stay at Hogwarts."

Hermione understood that he wasn't about to reveal much of the Order to Draco, and nodded, while Draco eyed Dumbledore suspiciously.

When they reached the landing, all three alighted from the platform and Dumbledore began to lead the way. However they reached a dead end, or rather there was only a narrow crack in the rock wall – narrow enough only for Hermione and Draco. Dumbledore eyed the crack thoughtfully, and then looked back at the students, who were frowning.

"I'm afraid Wentervale was a man of small stature," he said, with an air of resignation. "So I must ask two people who are of his size to pursue him instead."

"Professor, you're not coming along?" Hermione's voice was laced with horror.

Dumbledore looked at the crack again. "I should think not. It seems to remind me that this mission is not really mine to embark upon."

"You said we were not to act as heroes, and now you want us to go on alone?" accused Draco, furiously.

Dumbledore turned to look at Draco very seriously. "My first reaction after my first visit, was to look for Mr Potter to join me on this trip. But as he was caught up with a series of entanglements regarding the demise of his godfather, the incident at the Ministry of Magic, and various others, I confess that I myself have been putting this off long enough. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is getting more powerful every moment, and indeed I desire to destroy every one of the Horcruxes he has created."

This declaration prompted Draco to snarl a little, but Dumbledore continued, unfazed.

"But I am not the one destined to destroy him, it seems."

"Well, Potter is the one, according to the prophecy," growled Draco, his eyes flashing. "And so why are you bringing me here instead of darling Potter? Aren't you afraid that I'll send the Dark Lord after you?"

"Dra – Malfoy!"

"Shut up, Granger, this isn't your argument!" snapped Draco, and Hermione went rigid. His eyes were fixed on Dumbledore, and the look in them horrified her immensely. Her hand slipped to her wand, hoping that she didn't need to pull it out.

"Because it is only you who can make Wentervale talk," said Dumbledore, simply. "Wentervale thinks nothing of Harry. In his opinion, the prophecy is inconsequential; Wentervale has access to secrets that will cripple You-Know-Who by a good third or half. He hardly trusts anyone, but yet he owes your father two for letting him escape twice. Is that not a good enough reason you have to make him talk?"

"You're a wily old fox!" shrilled Draco. "You're using me!"

"Mutualism," said Dumbledore, looking at Draco with a sagely air.

"I'm a Death Eater," shot back Draco, menacingly. Hermione shuddered when he said it; it was a fact, stamped on him not just in Mark, but it seemed to radiate from every fibre of his being. "Nothing about the Dark Arts is mutual."

"You're quite right, Draco." Dumbledore had switched to using his first name, and Draco's eyes flashed again. "But as it is, you are dealing with me. Pardon my arrogance, but I would consider myself the antithesis to the Dark Arts."

"So you don't care if Maldash Wentervale hexes the first person he sees on sight, just like how Cedric Diggory was murdered on first sight?" Draco sneered. "And you were the one who said we weren't capable enough to handle whatever the Dark Lord might have placed around this place!"

Dumbledore paused. Hermione went white.

"I believe I do know what is in store for you, Draco. And I know you capable enough to handle it."

"You –"

"Can you stop arguing?" Hermione cut in, rather furiously. "There's not a lot of time left, and if you want to get to Wentervale fast, you'd just bite back your tongue, suppress your bloated ego, and just get on with it! I'd say you're using me as much as Professor Dumbledore is trying to use you, so stop being so touchy when you're pretty much a hypocrite!"

Draco's jaw dropped, turning a disbelieving gaze to Hermione, but she was already advancing towards the crack and squeezing her way through it.

"Move it, will you?" She turned back to glare at him.

"Then what are you going to do, stand guard?" demanded Draco, sarcastically, as he glared at Dumbledore just as fiercely as Hermione was doing to him.

"As it is, I will do some exploring of my own," said Dumbledore, disconcertingly cheerful once again. "I have faith in your abilities, my dears, as long as it is not dealing with Inferi."

"Oh, and so you have faith in us dealing with Wentervale..."

"Malfoy!"

"Alright, shut up, I'm coming!" Draco nearly yelled, if not for the fact that he might summon the whole army of Inferi up with his voice. Scowling, he pushed through the crack, leaving Dumbledore to stand outside. The smile on his face vanished, and was replaced by something quite undecipherable – perhaps, one could say a mix of worry and pride.

-.-.-.-.-.-

"I can't believe this..." Ron's face was pale now. "She's with Malfoy? Do you know what you're saying, Harry, he's a Death Eater!" He was getting increasingly agitated. "I told you that sending Hermione to spy on him was a mistake, a complete mistake!"

"Shut up, Ron, Harry's feeling horrid enough!" snapped Ginny, her arm linked with Harry's as the bespectacled boy sat there, looking white. She could feel the colour drain out of her face as she thought of Hermione telling her that she needed to build up 'rapport' with Malfoy. "Is there no way we can try to find out where they could possibly be?"

"If they're with Dumbledore – then Hermione should be quite safe," whispered Harry, but his clenched fists suggested that he was thinking of the worst. Ron gave a snort and sank back into the armchair. Ginny swallowed hard, and was about to say something when there were footsteps behind them.

"Hey, what happened to all of you after you unmasked Malfoy? You guys just disappeared!" Neville walked towards them. "Oh and where's Hermione? She just disappeared halfway after talking to Professor Slughorn."

Harry sat up immediately. "She was talking to Professor Slughorn?"

"Yeah, she said she wanted to discuss something important with him." Neville wrinkled his nose. "Not quite sure what, but I saw her bringing him to the Firewhisky area. Then – then I didn't see them after a while, I was too busy talking to Luna. She looked terribly bored."

"Firewhisky?" Ron stared at Neville, blinking. "Since when did Hermione drink Firewhisky?"

"You said Hermione must have taken the Cloak!" Ginny remembered suddenly. "And she gave it to Malfoy?"

"She sneaked Malfoy in? And she drinks Firewhisky with Slughorn? And then we find Malfoy sneaking around, then he suddenly ran out, and she's gone, and you say they're together?" Ron was growing wild.

"Well, if neither of you took it, it must be Hermione, right?" Harry threw up his hands.

"Hi, Neville!" Corrinne's sprightly voice interrupted all their thoughts as she came skipping down the stairs. "I thought of asking you something about Herb – oh, hi." Her smile faltered a bit when she saw the other three at the couches. "Hi. How was the party?"

"Bloody brilliant," scoffed Ron. Harry looked positively miserable. Ginny was now whiter than Harry.

"What's with all your faces?" demanded Corrinne, looking surprised.

Neville related the incident with Hermione before any of them could stop him, and all three grew more frustrated and unhappy with every word he said. When he finished, Corrinne's eyes flashed angrily.

"And she told me she wasn't fraternising with him!" Her voice was cold and hard.

"It's not like Hermione wants to, she's helping Harry!" Ginny blurted out before she could help herself. Harry shot her an admonishing look, but could do nothing to correct her. Corrinne blinked in confusion. "Help Harry do what?"

"And I have something to say!" Ginny couldn't help it anymore, although she was not looking at anyone when she announced it. Harry gazed suspiciously at her, then at Corrinne, who was perplexed by all the commotion. "Erm, to all of us?"

"I might as well..." Ginny sounded extremely miserable herself. "I told Hermione about Maldash Wentervale."

"Maldash who?" Harry began, but Ron's face suddenly became pale too. "Ginny, how could you!" He croaked, and Ginny winced. Then his expression of fear turned into one of enlightenment. "Oh my goodness, so that's who Professor McGonagall was talking about!"

"I figured that out when Harry told me what Professor McGonagall said," replied Ginny, sighing, but Ron groaned and slapped his forehead. "How could I be so stupid! I even asked McGonagall who that man was! Mum always said – " He looked at a bewildered Harry. "Sorry, we're all going to explain this in a minute." Then he looked at Neville and Corrinne who looked rather horrified at the use of the name. "Mum always said Maldash Wentervale was the man You-Know-Who was tracking down, but she didn't say anything about him being a Healer, or... or whatever secrets You-Know-Who passed to him..." Ron was completely devastated at this point in time. "I must have been too sleepy!"

Harry was about to yell the common-room down, feeling the most ignorant of the lot, when Neville gently explained to him who Maldash Wentervale was and why none of them had ever mentioned it to him.

"Even if you were the 'Chosen One', we thought it best not to say it," said Neville, nervously. "It's just like how we don't say You-Know-Who's real name. But..." He glanced at a white Ginny. "Since she's told Hermione, we might as well tell you too. It could give some clues to where she is."

"What'd you tell Hermione for?" demanded Ron. "Mum will go ballistic if she knew!"

"At first I thought when Hermione asked me, she read it somewhere and it'd be best if she knew, since she's helping Harry and all that," groaned Ginny. "But then I realised that Maldash Wentervale doesn't exist in wizarding literature, and I found out from her that she overheard Snape and Malfoy talking about him in the Hospital Wing."

"She's supposed to be helping us!" Ron was outraged, but Harry put up his hand. Something was bothering him.

"And you didn't tell me because..." He eyed Ginny.

"Hermione told me not to... she said she was still building up 'rapport' with... oh galloping gargoyles, I'm just as stupid as Ron!" wailed Ginny.

"What!" Ron retorted defensively.

"That letter! That letter we thought was from Krum! It must have been Malfoy setting up a meeting with her!" Ginny covered her face with her hands. "Oh, how stupid! She said she needed to know more about him so she could slowly coax things out of him. But she must have known a lot more already!"

She turned to Harry. "And she didn't want to tell you because she knew you'd go after Wentervale now that you knew the man's identity. The man who knows Voldemort's secrets. Well – at least part of them."

"She's darn right," said Harry, seething. "But even knowing his name, how am I supposed to find him? Even when McGonagall mentioned him, I couldn't do anything, could I? He's hiding in another country!"

He was feeling torn; he shouldn't have sent Hermione to do this; now she seemed to be taking everything into her own hands!

"I don't know," muttered Ron. "But Mum said you shouldn't know about this, or you'd jump after that guy. I think McGonagall made him sound completely detached from people we know, and that it is an impossible task to find him given that he's in exile abroad. But even if no one else but the Death Eaters know him, to be part of that lot which includes Bellatrix Lestrange, Rodolphus Black and Lucius Malfoy, who are all part of the pureblood families that are so interconnected, surely he must have been related to someone within the circle of wizards we know, that's why. You'd somehow find out how to get to him."

Harry's eyes lit up.

"Why would Snape and Malfoy be talking about Wentervale?" asked Corrinne, raising her eyebrows upon hearing Ron's words. It slowly occurred to her that Hermione was getting closer to Malfoy in a way that – a spy would.

But a spy wouldn't withhold information!

"Actually..." Harry paused. "If I go by what Hermione says so far, she thinks Malfoy is genuinely seeking revenge for his father. If that's the case, if Wentervale's the man McGonagall's been talking about, then he met Lucius Malfoy before Malfoy senior was killed. He's the one Lucius Malfoy let go twice. He's the one with Voldemort's secrets. Malfoy has two reasons to go after this man. And if Hermione's actually aware of this issue, and she's with Malfoy now, I'd bet she's helping him hunt that man down."

There was a pregnant silence.

"That's just a theory," said Ginny, uncomfortably.

"That's a Death Eater she's with!" hissed Ron.

"But we can't get to her now, can we?" Neville looked helplessly at them. "Where should we start?"

Corrinne stared for a moment, before she frowned.

"Hmm, why don't you all find Professor Slughorn and ask him what he and Hermione were talking about?"

-.-.-.-.-.-

"I just don't believe that old man!" Draco was seething with rage as he and Hermione moved furtively along the passageway. "He just left the two of us to our own devices!"

"Excuse me, Mr Malfoy, but I should think your initial plan was to go alone, so why are you complaining that your entourage is now cut short by one person?" Hermione's sarcasm wasn't helping Draco's mood one bit, and he growled in response. "And stop making those infernal animal noises, I know you're a Death Eater, not a werewolf."

Draco swallowed; a cold, hard expression spread over his face.

"So – " He ventured on a different conversation track. "What exactly did you do to old Sluggy?"

There was an ensuing giggle, and Draco shot her a cold look. "What!"

"Nothing," said Hermione, grinning, as she kept her eyes trained ahead. "Sluggy's a good name, considering the way he slugged down the Firewhisky. I said I heard he was a good drinker and wanted to challenge him, and he couldn't lose his face to a Muggleborn witch in her sixth year, so he gave it a go. It appears that his ego is bigger than his capacity, which I figured anyway. Oh, and thanks for the Disillusionment Charm," she mused, and Draco found himself rather infuriated with her smiling.

"Where's the Cloak by the way?" She suddenly realised, and stopped in her tracks, staring at Draco.

Draco nearly bumped into her with her sudden halt, and glared at her. "Well, your darling Potter nicked it off me, as you saw just now!"

Hermione's eyes widened with shock. "You what? I thought you were just being incredibly haughty and whipped it off to have a go at Ron!"

"Have a go at Weasley?" Draco snorted. "Are you raving mad? That weasel practically strangled me!"

Hermione could hardly breathe. This meant that Harry would soon suspect her.

"Potter's bound to find out you and I are out on this _excursion_." Draco narrowed his eyes. "And what are you going to tell him?"

_Maybe... that would work out too. Now that we're out finding Wentervale, Harry can't do anything to get here. I don't think Dumbledore will risk bringing him here as well._

"He can't come along anyway," said Hermione, coldly. "So there's nothing to tell."

Breathing again, she ventured ahead. Draco stared after her, then glowered and followed. He didn't know whether to believe her. He still couldn't believe the fact that she was here helping him as if he was her friend. Her _friend_! Draco nearly scoffed at the idea. He and a Mudblood as _friends_?

He felt too uncomfortable to feel true anger about that.

"That's about all there is to Slughorn," came her voice from in front.

"So – he just gave you the memory like that? What the – " Draco's incredulous voice faded away as they came to a stop. The passageway had opened up to a huge, dark area – or rather, it stopped before a gaping chasm.

Draco leaned over and stared into the emptiness below. "Okay, this is great, both of us can't Apparate anyway so we can't test if there are anti-Apparition wards or something."

"But it's a faster escape route than if he tried to run up that staircase we came down from," pointed out Hermione. "Since this platform is a lot nearer than the staircase one is. He needs to escape fast every time before Voldemort finds him." She looked up and down the darkness, pulled out her wand and whispered "Lumos!", but the light was not very helpful in negotiating what seemed to be never-ending cave walls.

"This makes no sense," said Hermione, frowning. "Nobody would create a passageway like that and lead it to a chasm. If the anti-Apparition wards end just nicely here, it just means Voldemort should have considered that Wentervale escapes through here! Why doesn't he pursue him then?"

"Which means this must be a very risky escape route, risky but easy to get to." Draco scanned the chasm. "The Dark Lord does not waste his time on people who will get themselves killed sooner or later." His eyes widened. "The Inferi were advancing from the area where we came from; their advances would push whoever was in the centre of the waters towards this area!"

"That explains it," whispered Hermione, as she squatted down on the hard floor, leaning over to look down. "It's supposed to be a dead end. But if Wentervale can escape, then it's quite likely that whatever escape route there is, it must be down – AHHHHH!"

Draco's eyes swivelled down in horror to see Hermione overbalance, and before he could reach out to grab her, she had fallen off, screaming – only to scrabble hard, and there she was, hanging at the ledge with one hand that had frantically grabbed hold of the edge.

"DRACO!" Hermione shrieked.

"GRANGER!" Draco gasped and immediately fell flat on his stomach, grabbing onto her wrist and trying his best to pull. But the ledge was flat – it was hardly sustaining Hermione's grip. Two seconds of struggling, and suddenly Hermione's hand had scrambled off the ledge. The force that was somehow tugging at her had pulled Draco along as well; he was jerked off the floor, and before he knew it, both of them were tumbling down into the darkness.

There was a horrible lurching in his body as they hurtled downwards – Draco thought it was the end, even as he tried to reach into his robes for his wand, but they were going far too fast for him to be able to do it... he couldn't even see where Hermione Granger was... the force had pulled their hands apart... his father's pleas running through his mind again... terror flitted across Draco's face... he had failed...

Suddenly there was a burst of strong light and heat, and a huge roar that emitted a gust of wind so strong that instead of hurtling downwards, they were both suddenly uplifted a little by that draft. Hermione gasped, and tried to scramble in air, but it only made her turn awkwardly and she felt that she was falling once again, into the abyss – her mind was no longer on Wentervale and the Inferi – all she could think of was Harry and Ron, the Burrow, her parents, even –

"IT'S A BLOODY DRAGON!" Draco's roar of horror jerked her into looking downwards, only to meet a pair of blood-red eyes, so menacing and deadly that she couldn't help shrieking again. They had stopped falling, only to be quickly uplifted, and then falling back down again before the draft sent them flying. The constant up-and-down movement was making her giddy – she wasn't sure whether it was relief that she wasn't dead yet, or terror that something worse than death by a fall seemed to await her. The falling down was now a lot slower, considering there seemed to be an invisible force of air still preventing them from hurtling down the way they did earlier on.

Quickly, Hermione's hand dived into her robes to pull out her wand.

"_AGUAMENTI_!" she screamed, and a strong jet of water sprayed out, knocking the dragon in his eye. She couldn't stop shrieking now that there was no draft of air; she was falling while the dragon roared in pain; the decibels of its roar was completely deafening her.

Draco pulled out his wand with much difficulty as their fall was broken once again by the steam rising from the dragon's nostrils. Suddenly, huge jaws appeared out of nowhere, scalding and scraping the skins of both of them. Hermione screamed again and shot jets of light and water continuously, her mind frantically zooming through all the spells and hexes and jinxes that Harry had taught them at the DA classes. Draco's wand was active now too, but the dragon's face was now clear to Hermione with every light she shot out; it was dark and scaly, so ugly that it was petrifying and nauseating. Its bloodshot eyes narrowed and another gust of flame and wind shot out from below.

Hermione could barely breathe, having to dodge the flame balls and steam, waving her wand about wildly whilst being suspended in mid-air like a ragdoll, hauled up and down occasionally with the dragon breaths. Its claw swiped out, and she screamed as the sharp talon ran itself past her leg. Another swipe, and she heard Draco howl with rage, her heart running cold. It wouldn't take long before the dragon made paper balls out of them. She flicked her wand again, but another swipe, and she was sent hurtling into the wall with a crash. There was a sickening crack, and a blinding jolt of pain rushing through her entire body as she gripped onto the rocks by the side, breaking her fall. There were stars before her eyes...

She could feel blood trickle down her face as the roars and sound of wand spells and grunts started to meld into one, single cacophonic buzz in her ears; she could barely make out something that looked like a jumping cricket in the mist with bursts of lights against something gigantic; her eyes felt sticky and gooey and the pain was gone – there was just plain numbness.

And all she could see before her was a blur of red light emitting from the middle; another crash by her side, the pain shooting up her spine again, and suddenly there was no more support behind her or for her to hold onto; she was spiralling downwards, downwards, downwards...

And then all was black.


	17. A Labyrinth of Secrets

"Where's Draco?"

Pansy came rushing up the girls' dormitory staircase frantically, her usual dolled up self rather dishevelled. There were only two other people in the common-room; the rest had already turned in. Astoria Greengrass, irritated at the disturbance, put down her Charms textbook at the table and looked maddeningly at the source of noise, but Pansy's wild gaze landed upon a surprised-looking Blaise Zabini, who sat up straight in his chair and stared at her.

"What's wrong, Pansy?" demanded Blaise.

"Where the hell is Draco?" Pansy was quite furious. "His mother's been trying to get him for _ages_, my fireplace is just ..." She noticed that Astoria was staring, and then with a poisonous look at the auburn-haired girl, she motioned to Blaise to move one side.

Astoria looked at them as they discussed, with Blaise's eyes widening with horror with every word Pansy said, and the raven-haired girl clearly getting distressed with every word she uttered as well. Blaise replied back, causing Pansy to gasp in horror as well. Just before Pansy was about to drag Blaise out of the common-room, Astoria stood up and asked,

"Is anything the matter?"

"Nothing to do with you, Greengrass!" retorted Pansy, but Blaise put his hand up to stop her. He then looked at Astoria. "Have you seen Draco?"

"Not last since he was being a complete jerk," said Astoria, with a sneer.

Pansy wanted to throw back something insulting, but Astoria's cool green eyes were fixed on Blaise as she continued speaking. "Is he missing? This is really strange, because I just heard something from one of the girls that he was at Slughorn's party just now – you know, when he wasn't invited."

Blaise looked back at her coldly. "Thanks, I knew that already. I was there."

"Did you hear what he said to Potter?"

"No, I didn't, but I reckon he ruffled some feathers with the Weasleys, given how the Carrot Boy jumped onto him."

Astoria's eyes gleamed like a cat's. "I heard Potter snatched his Invisibility Cloak off Draco, who must have obtained the Cloak with the help of a Gryffindor."

Pansy was seething with rage. "You spiteful little twerp! What are you insinuating?"

It was with that insinuation that suddenly the clockwork in Astoria's mind started to move doggedly. Hadn't her sister told her that _Hermione Granger_ had insulted the taste of their grandmother with regards to the pendant? Draco Malfoy hadn't even shown the slightest bit of interest towards the pendants when she was talking to him, but Hermione Granger had.

_She knew about the pendants!_

He was in cahoots with her?

It was such a preposterous theory, but Astoria remembered that she was told Hermione Granger had disappeared midway through the party, and so had Draco. Furthermore, only Potter's best friend would have access to his Invisibility Cloak! And they patrolled together! And –

Blaise saw her eyes deep in thought, and frowned. "Do you know something?"

"What can that little bitch know? She's just – "

Blaise shot Pansy a cold look, and she clammed her mouth shut angrily.

"If I were you," said Astoria, her eyes narrowing. "I would check if Hermione Granger of Gryffindor was missing too."

And she walked out of the common-room, leaving Blaise and Pansy to gape after her.

-.-.-.-.-.-

The Gryffindors were just out of their common-room when they saw Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson marching up to them. Harry was rather taken aback by the fury that was in both of their expressions, and halted the whole group as the Slytherins approached them.

Blaise scanned the group, and then a snarky expression came onto his face. "Where's Granger?"

Harry tried not to let his suspicion and astonishment show. "None of your business, Zabini. What're you doing out at this hour?"

He realised that was an ironic question to ask, because Pansy smirked. "And you, Potter?"

Ron gave a growl.

"Get out of the way," said Corrinne, coldly.

Blaise gave her a dirty look. "That's what you're good at doing, aren't you, Whitemayer? Getting people out of the way, even on the Quidditch pitch. Watch your back next time!"

Corrinne's red eyes flashed angrily. Blaise wasn't in the least intimidated; he merely glowered at her.

"Tell that meddlesome Mudblood that she shouldn't be messing around with Draco, or she'd be really sorry," said Pansy, with a sneer, and Ron clenched his fists. "She should know who he is, and who the people behind him are!"

"Let's just go and leave them," said Ginny, in a low voice, and Harry turned away from them, leading the group away. Blaise and Pansy were left staring after them.

"So it's true," whispered Blaise, a horrified look coming across his face. "Astoria is right; Granger's with Draco."

"Don't be silly, they didn't explicitly say that!" said Pansy, angrily.

"But they didn't deny it," shot back Blaise, and Pansy began to look uncertain. Both Slytherins found themselves quite speechless.

"So, here we are," said Ron, once the Gryffindors had reached Slughorn's office. Along the way, they had dodged a few ghosts and one or two staff members, met Luna Lovegood who was finding her missing sock, and Neville had accosted her along. Corrinne didn't look very pleased about that, but she merely marched on together with them. Now seeing them look uncertainly at one another, she gave a huff of annoyance and walked up straight to the door and rapped on it. The rest of them jumped a little by the confidence of her knocking.

"Come in!" Slughorn's voice boomed.

When Corrinne pushed the door open, Professor Slughorn was sitting at his desk trying to primp himself. It seemed however, that his papers were not right in front of him, but stacked messily at the side; it looked as if he had just been doing absolutely nothing at his table.

"What can I do for all of you?" Slughorn tried his best to sound pleasant, upon seeing Harry's face, and beamed appropriately. Then he realised the time, and looked rather disapproving. "What are you all doing out here at this hour?"

"Professor Slughorn, what were you talking about with Hermione just now?" Harry lost no time in putting the question forth. What he hadn't expected was that Slughorn merely looked at him with a rather perplexed look.

"I'm sorry? Are you referring to Miss Granger? Well, I haven't had her in my classes today!"

"You were talking to her at the party!" Neville stared at him.

Slughorn gave them a curious look. "What party?"

"The Slug – I mean, _your_ party, sir!" Ginny was exasperated. "Neville and Hermione went up to talk to you, and then Hermione asked to talk to you alone! Now could you please tell us what she said?"

Slughorn looked completely bewildered. "I have no idea what all of you are muttering about! This is quite preposterous, I expected better of you, Miss Weasley, and Mr Harry Potter, well really! Up at this hour and blabbering to me about a party! Yes, I do hold parties from time to time, but I jolly well haven't had one today! Now off to bed, all of you!" His pudgy cheeks were flushed with annoyance by the time he finished, and he twirled his walrus moustache with vehemence.

Ron was quite beyond himself, and Harry had to restrain him a little. "What are you talking about? All of us went to your party today!" At this, Corrinne cringed, but said nothing. "You could ask all the students!"

Slughorn was about to get rather angry at Ron's rude outburst, when Luna calmly walked forward.

"Professor," she said, in her serene voice that seemed to quell the tension in the office a bit. "I think there might be Wrackspurts attacking your memory. It seems to have been modified. You might need a bit of Washurp Potion to get them out. I'm sure being a Potions professor," she looked around his office, "you might have a bit of those."

Neville resisted the urge to grin; Harry, Ron and Corrinne just stared at Luna like she was mad. But Professor Slughorn had had enough, especially with a student telling him about a Potion he hadn't heard in his life before, and sent them all out with a threat of detention if they bothered him again.

"He's barking mad!" Ron scowled, as they came out of Slughorn's office looking rather disgruntled.

"I think Luna's right though," said Harry, slowly. "It seems like his memory has been modified."

"I agree with you, Harry," said Corrinne. "I'm quite sure he wasn't lying when he said he had no idea what we were saying. In other words, Hermione must have modified his memory."

"I thought only Gilderoy Lockhart, bless that charmer, was good at that!" Ron retorted.

"Hermione was good at anything," said Harry, quietly.

"That doesn't help us though," said Neville. "If Professor Slughorn doesn't know anything about Hermione, how're we supposed to find out where she and Malfoy could possibly be?"

"Where's Hermione when you need her?" Ron lapsed into lamenting, and Ginny rolled her eyes.

Luna yawned. "I don't suppose it's very good to think about things when you're tired and wearing one sock, are you?"

Harry had to admit he was quite tired, but he shook his head (besides, he had both socks on). "You go ahead, Luna. We'll catch up with you tomorrow morning."

Luna bid them goodbye, and they stood around, still deep in thought.

Ginny chewed her lip. "Okay, you know what, you guys go back to the common-room, I'll get a headstart. I'm going to search Hermione's bed." She looked at Corrinne. "Help me?"

Corrinne nodded, and soon all of them were racing back to the common-room, careful to avoid any sign that Argus Filch would come chasing after them with Mrs Norris.

-.-.-.-.-.-

There was a dull ache throbbing in her head. It was painful, and yet strangely not overwhelmingly terrible. She could barely open her eyes, but when she did, not much light filtered in. Blinking hard, she winced as her hands flew to her ribs.

"Granger?"

She winced again, as she tried to focus, but she couldn't. Whatever hard flooring she was lying on was cold, wet, and definitely not comfortable for her broken ribs. Or at least, they felt like they were broken.

There was a hurried movement across her face.

"Can you see me?"

"Draco?" She squinted hard.

There was a grunt. "I can't believe you can still call me like you're my best mate."

The voice wasn't very harsh, but Hermione just couldn't get herself to focus.

There was a whisper and a jet of light that shot straight at her; she couldn't help squealing in reflex. Then suddenly, she realised her vision was cleared – the familiar of silver-blond hair was now in a complete mess. He was sitting on the ground before her, staring hard at her with a grim expression. Hermione tried to suppress her gasp when she saw him; Draco Malfoy's face was cut in various places, clean perhaps only because he had siphoned all the dirt and blood off with his wand, and he was only wearing his school uniform; Hermione saw a pile of torn robes cast aside carelessly.

"Now you can see me, I would suppose."

"Where are we?" Hermione winced as she tried to turn, her ribs still hurting.

"I haven't a bloody clue. I just managed to find this place swerving around that fat dragon."

"You defeated the dragon?" She stared at him, bewildered.

"I'm surprised you think so highly of my skills." Draco curled his lip, looking more sour and sullen than ever. For a moment, Hermione saw the Draco Malfoy when he was younger; his tuft had been swept back from the gusts of wind, leaving his high forehead, and his eyes were narrowed into slits; the same haughty, suspicious expression that was carved into his face everytime he passed by her; the scowl whenever she managed to outsmart him at something, leaving him to spit and mutter 'Filthy Mudblood!' in the most condescending manner.

But something about him now was different.

Maybe it was the way he looked so torn and dishevelled; never would a Malfoy be caught looking like this.

Hermione shook herself out of her thoughts. "What happened?"

"I can't believe that old swine said I was perfectly capable of handling it; I could have been killed!"

Hermione tried not to wince when he had used 'I' instead of 'we could have been killed'. But she did wince when a sharp pain ran up her side. Once it had subsided, she tried asking again. "What did you do to get us here?"

Draco's gaze was fixed on the ground in front of him. "I tried the Killing Curse on it before it bit off my head. But it knocked off my wand when I tried. Then I saw you falling." His gaze did not shift. "And then I have no bloody idea how that happened, but I just instinctively shouted '_Accio broom!_' because that was probably the only thing that I could think of that I could possibly manouevre around this bloody dragon..."

"A _broom?_" Hermione's voice was incredulous.

Draco's head snapped up, and he glared at her. "That isn't the point, Granger!"

Hermione muttered something under her breath, then continued to look at him expectantly. She half-expected a dragon to suddenly sneak up behind her and make cinders out of them, but Draco was just looking very angrily at her rather than with an expression of growing horror. She tried not to make a nightmare out of her situation. A ball of pain seemed to be rolling about in her stomach, and combined with the jolts of pain in her ribs and head, she was just fighting to stay conscious.

"Yeah, a broom flew out of nowhere." Draco scowled, pointing at the grubby broom lying beside him, as if the broom was at fault. "Nicked it before the dragon ate me up. And caught you before you got eaten up too."

_"Accio broom!" he screamed, just as the dragon took a large bite off his robes. The fire seared past his skin, scorching him – he wasn't thinking straight at all; this must have been what it felt when Potter was at the Triwizard Tournament, hoping that a pathetic broom would come and save him against the Hungarian Horntail. This must be what it feels like to be killed by a freaking dragon..._

To his utter surprise, a familiar thing came hurtling towards him, nearly knocking him off the draft of air that was keeping him afloat. He gasped and reached out for it; he had just managed to clamber onto the broom when he saw Hermione Granger slam against the rocks, her face contorted with pain and drenched in blood. The dragon gave a roar, flapped its large wings as much as it could in that claustrophobic space, and turned its deathly glare upon him. He was staring right straight at its bloody-red eyes again; for a moment, he thought of Corrinne Whitemayer with her sickly blonde hair and flaming eyes. Coming after him. Screaming at him. The way the dragon was going to devour him.

His father's face floated to mind. "You cannot be weak," he had said, sneeringly. "Never are Malfoys weak."

In an instant, Draco banked hard to the right, avoiding the crash of the dragon's head towards him; it slammed right into the rocks. Draco's gaze was now trained on Hermione, who was slipping off the rocks. Suddenly, she was falling, falling right down the chasm; the dragon's breath wasn't beneath her anymore to hold her up...

"AHHHH!" Draco couldn't help yelling his head off as he hurtled towards her like she was the Snitch. He dove beneath her and caught her on the broom, only to be scorched once again by a breath of fire. The dragon twisted and its jaws came terrifyingly close, if not for Draco dipping downwards again, into the emptiness of the chasm. Then he saw his fallen wand resting on a ledge on the rock wall, teetering dangerously. Gritting his teeth, he sped towards it, only to have the dragon ram its side into the wall. His wand flew into the air, and Draco rode his broom at a hurtling speed after it, his arms pulling Hermione to lean on his back. One hand outreached, he grabbed the wand in midair, spun around, and rained jinxes and hexes as much as he could, but the dragon's flexible neck pulled its head aside nimbly. Its fiery mouth was just too near for Draco to do anything, and he was flying all over the place, nearly crashing into the rocks.

Suddenly he saw something that looked like –

An opening in the rocks! Yelling his lungs out, he zoomed straight into what he hoped was definitely not an illusion...

Hermione tried her best to stand up; she faltered a bit as every part of her body was throbbing with pain. Draco made no move to help her, but his eyes watched her as she struggled. When she nearly lost her balance, he suddenly stood up and grabbed her to steady her. Hermione winced at the pain once again, but then she held onto Draco's arms as she steadied herself, pulling out her wand as she did.

"How the hell are you going to carry on if you're like this?" demanded Draco.

"This is so strange," whispered Hermione, looking into Draco's eyes. He suddenly felt a little uncomfortable at their proximity, but couldn't risk dropping Hermione onto the floor in this state. He diverted his gaze away, the hard look still plastered on his face as she tried to maintain her balance by holding onto his arms. "First, there's a dragon at the only other exit one can go to if one is pursued by the Inferi. Secondly, a broom comes out of nowhere when you ask for it, and you can somehow get past a dragon with that and end up here?"

Draco had to admit she was right; it was all too confusing, complicated, and somehow coincidental. A broom in the middle of that abyss? They were milliseconds away from being dragon chomp.

_Did Dumbledore know about that then?_

"_Episkey_," whispered Hermione, her wand limp in her grip. Draco felt something rather hot clawing at his face, and he winced, before a cool draught took over. The pain from his cuts seemed to have diminished (not that he found that extremely distracting). He didn't thank her, but was about to pull out his wand to do the same, considering that she looked rather weak. However, she sort of collapsed into his arms, startling him.

Trying hard not to panic, he looked away from Hermione's head and noticed that the corridor they were at led to somewhere else. He had zoomed in here on the broom with Hermione, not knowing where he really was; he had zoomed past a few corridors. Now where on earth were they?

Unlike the narrow corridor flanked by uneven walls of rocks that they had gone through after Dumbledore had left them alone, the walls that surrounded them were very neat stacks of rocks and stones. There were also fire lights adorning the walls down the corridor. Draco stared in astonishment. It was like they were in a basement of a building, if not for the fact that he could swear he had entered a cave without a single building in sight.

Grudgingly helping Hermione along, he slowly moved towards the end of the corridor – only to see another long corridor. Draco let out a growl of frustration, and summoned the broom once again. Hopping onto it, he tried to get Hermione onto it, but only succeeded in having her flop onto him like a puppet. He turned to stare at her, but she was really quite weak now, having been moved about. Her eyes were half-closed and she murmured something that Draco couldn't hear. Getting increasingly frustrated, Draco had no choice but to grab her arms and put it around him so that she wouldn't get dislodged from the broom. When her arms were secure around him, he cursed inwardly and leaned forward, his Seeker instincts kicking in.

With the broom, Draco was more confident, and he was thankful for it too – the corridors seemed never-ending! He whipped past several corners, zooming down each corridor, but every wall looked the same, the same neatly-stacked stones with an occasional firelight. It was as if he was in a maze!

_A maze?_

Draco suddenly halted. He could feel Hermione jerk back, but his hand quickly flew out to press her arms against his stomach. His heart was thumping wildly.

_A labyrinth of secrets._

This couldn't be! Draco ran his hand through his bedraggled hair, groaning. He hadn't even gotten close to the Horcrux in the cave that the Inferi were guarding, and now there was another one he had to find? Where the hell was Maldash Wentervale? Hadn't Dumbledore said that if they followed the corridor, they might find the way to where Wentervale was?

The thought of Dumbledore incensed him. He had left them to fight the dragon alone! He must have known that there was a dragon there! How could he do that? Was Dumbledore making a fool out of him? Maybe even Lanneria Wentervale was making a fool out of him. Draco could feel the anger boil within him. Maybe Dumbledore was pre-empting him and throwing him to feed the dragon before he could kill him.

_All I want to do is avenge my father! What's wrong with that?_

The anger probably made him want to complete his first mission for the Dark Lord all the more.

_And I was just millimetres away from him!_

He glared at the wall beside him. "Bloody hell!" He gritted his teeth as he thumped his fist against the wall.

To his utter amazement, there was a sound. A hollow, empty sound.

Draco stared at the wall, then his fist, and then the wall again. He raised his fist and thumped it again. The low sound echoed down the corridor.

"It's a hollow wall?" He stared at the wall in disbelief.

He pulled out his wand (with much difficulty, since Hermione was still somewhat draped around him), and then muttering a spell, a jet of light shot out from his wand and split into many little pieces, ricocheting off the walls and making the same low sound over and over again, like the sound of someone blowing over a bottle rim. It was a symphony of the same sound being played, and Draco's eyes widened as he heard them.

_A labryinth of secrets._ Secrets.

If this place was what the clue meant, then this place was hiding something.

If this place was just flanked by hollow walls, then surely beyond this couldn't be a cave. It was either an illusion, or a temporary place.

If that was the case, then what was his next step?

So many 'ifs' were swirling in Draco's mind, as he drifted along the corridor on the broom, with Hermione teetering on the brink of consciousness behind him. He glanced back to see her grimacing a little with her half-shut eyes, and his surly expression deepened. This was not good at all!

Feeling particularly violent with a wave of anger overtaking him, he swung his wand again. "_Expulso!_"

An earth-shattering explosion came next; he quickly cast a shield charm to protect Hermione and him from the blast. Half the wall on the left was shattered; beyond it was not the usual hard rocks of a cave, instead, it was just emptiness. Draco reached out; there was something like a force field preventing him from walking over the pavement into the emptiness. Completely mystified, he performed the explosive spell again, this time whirling the wand around to spread out the impact. Strengthening his shield charm, he watched as the walls burst apart, those further from the impact crumbling into bits, and the dark emptiness that reminded him of the abyss reigned on both sides.

It seemed like ages as Draco zipped around on his broom, wielding his wand about, casting explosions after explosions, bursting down the walls of each corridor, leaving only the stone pavement. But all he could see was a patch of darkness each time he brought a section of the wall down; it was a really queer labryinth if it was one. The corridors seemed never-ending; there seemed to be endless options to go down and blast off those walls. With a violent shudder running through his body, Draco snarled and hurtled a particular harsh explosive spell right in front of him.

"_EXPULSO!_"

The earth-shattering feeling came again, but to Draco's amazement, when the dust from the debris had cleared, the section of the wall in front of him remained solidly upright. Everything else had crumbled, leaving the pavement, and it led right to that unmoved section.

Draco hovered on his broom for a moment, before he tentatively edged forward. He cast the explosions left and right again, and then finally hitting in front of him again, knocking down everything, but still the section before him remained like it was.

Breathing heavily, he stared hard at it. There was no knob, no handle, nothing basically to hint that this wall led to anything. His fingers trailed all around it, but he couldn't find anything. He knocked against the wall – it was solid. Not hollow like the rest.

He flew backwards and hurled a couple of spells against the door. Nothing.

"_Alohomora!_" He felt stupid throwing that spell over without any effect.

"ARGH!"

"Try..." A faint whisper came from behind him.

Draco whipped his head around to try and see Hermione, but he couldn't, because her head was completely rested upon his back. She had been completely shaken by the violent jerks of the explosion and the twists and turns Draco made on his broom. Barely conscious, she managed to whisper,

"Room of Requirement."

Draco's eyebrows shot up. "What?"

But Hermione had no energy to say anymore. Draco looked confused for a moment, before it suddenly hit him.

_The Room of Requirement! How does one get in?_

Memories of fifth year floated back to mind, when he remembered how he and the Inquisitorial Squad had tried to open up the Room of Requirement to reveal the Headquarters of the DA.

He banked to the right, and then to the left, and then right again. Under his breath, he muttered, "I want to find Maldash Wentervale. Give me a route to find Maldash Wentervale. I want to find..."

He was on his fifth turn to the left when suddenly, a glimmer of light hinted from the point where the wall met the pavement. Draco stared at it, almost fainting from relief when he saw it. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he saw the light trace round the wall, like it was carving an opening. Slowly, before his eyes, a bright outline of a door began to emerge.

_A labyrinth of secrets._

Secret walls, that when brought to light, crumbled – only to reveal the truth.

It was legend that labryinths were constructed because the constructor wanted to test the true intentions of the person before he or she could have access to what lay at the end. Was this what it was? Was he stepping towards the truth?

A knob appeared. Draco swallowed hard and raised his wand. "_Alohomora._"

There was a click, and the door slowly creaked open to reveal a very brilliant light. It was bright, but not sharp enough to dazzle him. Draco held his breath.

"Granger, look!"

There was no response.

Draco shifted a bit. "Granger!"

Her arms were cold around his middle. Draco felt himself growing cold too.

"Hermione Granger!"

It was just pure light awaiting at the entrance, but light was hope, and Draco wasted no time in zooming through the doorway on the broom, with Hermione in tow.


	18. Meetings and Missions

Professor McGonagall was trying her best not to feel anxious as she scanned through the Transfiguration scripts before her listlessly. Tossing one into the pile on her right, she stared at the stack before her – although her mind was not on marking at all. _What was going on?_

There was a sudden burst of flames, and she jumped. The Floo network!

"Is that you, Albus?" She hurriedly made her way to the fireplace. Sure enough, Albus Dumbledore's face was in the fire; usually it was a rather merry expression, but now it was grim and worried, making Professor McGonagall even more jittery.

"Minerva, have you informed Mr Potter and Mr Weasley, as well as Severus, with regards to Miss Granger and Mr Malfoy's temporary absence?"

"I've followed all your instructions, Albus," replied Professor McGonagall, somewhat annoyed. "Now will you tell me what is going on? Where have you brought Mr Malfoy and Miss Granger?"

"As a matter of fact, I am now in my office, that is why I am able to talk to you through the Floo."

Startled, Professor McGonagall peered closely. "Then where are those two children?"

"They are on a mission for me, and I believe they are in need of reinforcements. Can you please round up the Order for me, and have them in my office immediately."

"Albus..."

"Minerva," he said firmly, but with a gentle tone. "I will explain everything soon enough. Please."

Professor McGonagall stared at the fire for a while, then she hurriedly waved the flames away and threw another handful of Floo powder from a pot dangling at the side. "The Order of the Phoenix!" she shrilled.

-.-.-.-.-.-

"Where is this place?" Draco wondered aloud.

He had zoomed straight into a place full of white light; it was as if he was in Heaven. For a moment, he half expected cherubims to sail over his head, shooting a couple of arrows and throwing a bunch of flower buds over him. Looking around suspiciously, he lowered the broom down. There was no flooring below, only white emptiness, but yet he was standing on something solid.

Yes, standing. His broom had disappeared.

There was a thump behind him. Draco turned around.

Hermione Granger lay curled on the floor, unconscious.

Suddenly forgetting where he was, Draco immediately knelt down and shook her hard. "Granger!"

She was still unconscious, her hair falling back onto his lap.

He pulled out his wand. "_Ennervate!_"

She still didn't budge. Her face seemed to be turning paler by the moment, and her hands were icy cold, as he reached out hesitantly to touch her.

Frustrated, Draco stuffed his wand back into his robes, looked up and around. The door in which he had come through was gone as well. It was as if he was in a dreamland, except that dreamland at least had more than just an empty, white space.

Rubbing his eyes, Draco gently placed Hermione down, stood up and hollered,

"IS ANYONE THERE?"

There was a very cold silence. Literally cold, and Draco could feel himself shivering even after all the heat had enveloped him from the dragon's fiery breath.

"HELLO, IS ANYONE – "

"Yes."

The softspoken voice startled him, and he spun around. But there was no one. Draco was quite sure it was not a female who spoke; it was gentle, but had a certain scruffiness to it as well.

"Who are you?" Draco asked, tentatively, pulling out his wand.

Nobody had appeared to match voice to face.

"SPEAK! WHO ARE YOU?" Draco gripped his wand fiercely.

"You have inherited your father's suspicious nature. It is good to be wary." The voice had turned to sneering.

Draco immediately paled. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

Out of the white emptiness, a figure of a man appeared. He was wrapped in dark robes, and had a large hat obscuring his face. However, both hat and robes seemed to be in tatters, and he walked with a limp.

As he approached, Draco backed away.

This was the man he had wanted to find all this while, and yet, there was a certain aura about this man that felt like he couldn't be touched.

The man stopped walking. "If it was anyone else, Draco Malfoy, I wouldn't have come to see him so quickly."

Draco could feel beads of perspiration dotting his face. He swallowed hard; it was hard to figure out whether it was a strong sense of relief at seeing him, or a vehement hatred bubbling within him to strangle the man who had indirectly caused his father's death.

"You bastard..." Draco muttered under his breath, feeling the fury snowball within him.

"Your father was more welcoming, you know..."

"I suppose you were pretty welcoming to him as well, weren't you?"

"Oh I was rather welcoming to you too, I thought. Pretty nifty skills you had there, with that dragon. I'm impressed."

Just under the hat, Draco saw a glowing pair of yellow eyes, that suddenly turned a bloody red, and his breathing halted abruptly.

"You were – _you were that dragon_!" He gasped. "You're an _Advanced Animagus_!"

"I see you have also inherited your father's sharp eyes. It was what made him a worthy servant of the Dark Lord."

"YOU SHUT UP!" Draco suddenly burst out, raging, his wand straight at the man. He was heaving as he screamed, "You don't have the right to talk about Father! You don't have the right to talk about the Dark Lord! You're a traitor, TRAITOR! And a MURDERER!"

"Do you honestly care what I've done to the Dark Lord?" The man chuckled, finally lifting up his head to reveal a rather distorted face. At first, Draco thought that he was midway morphing into a dragon again. But there were no sign of scales, and the pair of eyes were back to its jaundiced colour. Still, half his face looked like it had been burnt off; the other half was wrinkled and dotted with patches, like it was diseased. Draco's eyes widened with horror, but he didn't recoil, merely glaring very furiously at him, his wand shaking uncontrollably.

"_Or what the Dark Lord has done to me?_"

"You're right, I don't care about the betrayal. All I want to know is how the bloody hell my father died," said Draco, his eyes set alight with fury. "What the HELL did you do to make him let you go not ONCE, but TWICE, and then he goes back to get _AVADA KEDAVRA_-ed!"

"Watch that wand when you say words like that, Draco," said Maldash Wentervale, with a smirk. Draco hadn't wielded the correct wand movements when saying the Killing Curse name, but he wished he had done so to wipe that infuriating expression off Wentervale's disfigured face.

"And now you want to kill me, eh? If it weren't for that –"

Draco stopped midway in confusion.

"The broom?" Wentervale chuckled. "I suppose I am your benefactor now, aren't I?" A sudden coughing fit over took him, and he hacked violently. Draco watched him in disbelief.

"You let me get away? Then – then what's with the labryinth? My father –"

Wentervale calmed himself down from his coughing fit before he spoke, "Your father gave you clues to find me, didn't he? I suppose Lucius couldn't give up after all, could he, after he created such an elaborate plan to find me. But he must have told you the wrong person." He raised his hands to reveal that they were either blackened at certain areas, or completely blotched with the same patches that were on his face. "He wanted you to come and find me for answers. Do you think you will get them, Draco? I am about to die. The Dark Lord wanted me to die with his secrets. And I am dying." He smiled morbidly, placing his left hand before him. "Soon enough, anyway."

"Your half-sister told me to come here." Draco narrowed his eyes, wand still pointing right at Wentervale. "And I know exactly how to get to her, so don't try any tricks!"

"Do you honestly believe you can beat me with that wand of yours, Draco?" Wentervale laughed coldly. "Do you think the entire wizarding world is scared of me without reason? Do you think I became a Death-Eater without reason? If you try, you'd really be in Heaven before you try anything on Lanneria. Besides, your father didn't send you here to kill me, I'm sure of that. Let's see, was he hinting to me that I should kill this naive little boy of his?"

Draco knew that if he said anymore with regards to his father, he might do stupid things with his wand. Trying his best to calm himself down, he remembered who was behind him.

"I want you to do something for me first," Draco said, in between gritted teeth. "You're a damn good Healer, aren't you? I want you to Heal her..." And he swung his wand to the unconscious figure of Hermione Granger behind him.

"Is that – ooh, a rather familiar face nowadays, isn't that one of Harry Potter's sidekicks?" Wentervale mused. Draco flinched at the mention of 'Harry Potter'. Suddenly, dealing with Potter in school seemed like peanuts to this.

"A Muggle-born, Draco?" Wentervale's voice was dripping with contempt. "You brought a _Mudblood_ with you? Oh I know, she's the sacrificial lamb?"

"NO!" Draco reacted violently, and sparks flew out of his wand.

Wentervale laughed again. "Oh lamb she is alright, just that she's being protected. Beware though, she could be a wolf in sheep's clothing!" He seemed to find this amusing, and chuckled quietly.

"You had jolly well Healed her first." Draco was breathing heavily. "Then we'll talk."

"What makes you think I'll talk?" Wentervale raised his eyebrows, the infuriating smirk still hanging at the edge of his mouth.

Draco's eyes flashed. "I know you told Father some secrets about the Dark Lord – secrets that he left to you because you were one of the four trusted Death-Eaters. Father left me clues to find you. You even let your sister hint to me where you were. You could have killed me just now but you didn't. You could have made things a lot more difficult and life-threatening, but you didn't. I don't know where the hell we are, but I know I'm here and still alive because you led me here. You are going to talk because you want to!"

When he got no response, he growled and continued, "I know what these secrets are. They are the Dark Lord's Horcruxes." He thought he saw a flicker in Wentervale's yellow eyes. "You are here to destroy them."

Wentervale chuckled again. "You are a fool, Draco Malfoy. Just like your father."

Draco's mouth twitched. "You clearly don't want the Dark Lord to live. That's why the Dark Lord wants you dead."

"I don't think that's your mission, is it, Draco?" Wentervale eyed him. For one moment, Draco thought his Occlumency skills were failing him, but when he rummaged about in his mind, he was quite sure everything was carefully compartmentalised, and that Wentervale had no way of finding his way around.

"No, it isn't," replied Draco, his eyes glinting. "But it's _yours_."

-.-.-.-.-.-

"Cissy, is that all you ever do at home?" Bellatrix sneered as she held up a tattered piece of knitting that had been frustratingly abandoned on the table. She eyed her sister, who was sitting on her rocking chair twisting the kerchief in her hands with much desperation. Rather irritated by her sister's lack of speech, she marched over and pulled the kerchief out of Narcissa's grasp, but the latter didn't react, merely fretting terribly as she wrung her hands together.

"What _is_ the matter with you?" Bellatrix glared at her with a crooked expression on her garishly-painted face.

"I – I feel like Draco's in danger," whispered Narcissa, her hands trembling. "I feel like – "

What Narcissa really felt, Bellatrix had no idea, because there was a sudden burst of green light in the sitting room, and a loud bang. When the mist cleared, there was a sallow-faced Severus Snape, stepping out of the fireplace and brushing the soot off his black robes. Bellatrix snarled; Narcissa jumped.

"Severus!" She breathed hard.

"Narcissa," he said, stiffly. Then he turned to her ferocious-looking sister. "Bellatrix."

"What brings you here?" Narcissa asked, before Bellatrix could jump in.

Snape looked at her directly. "I am here to inform you that Albus Dumbledore has brought Draco on an excursion with him."

"An excursion?" Narcissa's eyes widened with horror, while Bellatrix screeched angrily, "What are you talking about, Severus Snape? How could you let Draco go with him alone? And what are you doing here? Do you really imagine for one moment Draco has the capabilities to kill that Dumblydork at this moment?"

"He promised me he knows what he's doing," said Snape, coldly, while Narcissa looked like she was about to burst into hysterics.

"He is in danger after all," she whispered. "No..."

"Did Draco learn his Occlumency well?" asked Bellatrix, curtly. "I don't suppose the Dark Lord will really appreciate knowing how incompetent his minion is."

"Bella!" Narcissa turned wildly to her sister. "Draco is not incompetent; he just shouldn't be in this!"

"It's an honour to serve the Dark Lord!" Bellatrix threw her hands up in the air, her wild hair becoming even more so. Turning to Snape, her eyes glittered insanely. "So, Severus, what excursion is this about?"

"I have no bloody idea." Snape enunciated every word clearly and coldly. "I have just come to warn Narcissa – since I am aware that you tried contacting Draco earlier, but failed to. There might be news coming to you that Draco is missing from school, but it is not as such. Dumbledore specifically told the Assistant Headmistress – " Snape's mouth twitched. "That he was bringing Draco on a little excursion. I was informed because Draco is a student of my House. I wish not to alarm you."

Narcissa couldn't have looked more alarmed that her son was with Dumbledore on a one-to-one basis.

"This is suspicious, highly suspicious!" Bellatrix's eyes were flashing.

Snape looked straight at Narcissa. "For all you know, this could be Draco's moment of glory."

"Of _glory_?" Bellatrix screeched with laughter, throwing her head back wildly. "Oh, Severus, do you really think that boy will murder Dumbledore? What if he fails? What was the Unbreakable Vow for? Why are you here?" She smirked. "Are you hiding something from us, Severus Snape? If you are on such good terms with Dumbledore, then I'm afraid I actually fear for poor Draco's life!"

"Bella!" screamed Narcissa, growing pale.

Snape glowered at Bellatrix. "I would have you stop questioning my loyalties time and again, Bellatrix Lestrange, I have explained it countless times, and it is highly insulting!"

Bellatrix merely cackled. "I revel in that."

"You must promise me, Severus, that Draco will get out of this alive." Narcissa grabbed Snape's hands, making him frown. "I cannot hope to lose one more person, Draco is my everything!"

"I made the Unbreakable Vow, Narcissa," Snape said, coolly. _And if you see your son, you'd jolly well remind him of that!_ He wished he could say that aloud if not for Bellatrix's sharp eyes lurking at the side. Turning away briskly, Snape stepped into the fireplace once more.

"Shouldn't you inform the Dark Lord?" Bellatrix twittered, an amused smile hanging on the edge of her lips.

"NO!" Narcissa gestured wildly. "The Dark Lord must not know of this... what if Draco fails..."

"Cissy, would you stop being so hysterical!" Bellatrix was infuriated.

"I think it'd be best that you kept the matter to yourself," said Snape, curtly. "I would not want to endanger Draco _unnecessarily_." He eyed Bellatrix. "And it'd do you good too."

Bellatrix merely laughed like a hyena, and Snape was gone in a flash of green smoke and light. Narcissa fell back down against her armchair, looking weary and distressed.

"My Draco..." she whimpered, the kerchief in her grip completely ragged.

Bellatrix glared at her, then looked at the fireplace which had now lit up in its disconcertingly merry way. Her eyes then narrowed, and danced around playfully as she twirled a loose, straggly strand of hair with her slender fingers, a smirk hanging at the edge of her lips.

"Oh, Severus... oh, Severus..."

* * *

**A/N: **The 'Advanced Animagus' is my own concept.


	19. Vengeful Tale

"OW! Watch where you throw that book, Ginny!"

"I'm sorry, alright? I just – bloody – can't – find... I'm going to scream at Hermione when I next see her!" yelled Ginny, as she flung a pile of books out of the cupboard. "She put a stupid Extension Charm on her cupboard to hold all these freaking heavy books!"

Corrinne snorted, and rifled through the drawers, tossing out apparel, socks, gloves, and all. It was amazing how many things Hermione Granger kept around her bed and yet left it looking like she had nary an article of possession.

The rest of the girls in the dormitory were fast asleep, unaware of the ruckus Ginny and Corrinne were making, primarily because Corrinne had skilfully cast a charm to muffle their voices. One of the books Ginny threw out too hard; it nearly flew out of the perimeter of the charm. Corrinne reached out to grab it, and threw a deadly glare at Ginny. "You don't have to put your Chaser skills to use at this moment!"

Ginny ignored her, and shoved aside a pile of books, rummaging further.

The book in Corrinne's hands fell open – in between the pages was a piece of paper.

Corrinne read the paper, and frowned. Then she flipped the book to the cover. It was Hermione's Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook. She held up the paper and read it again.

"Ginny?"

"WHAT?" Ginny's temper was bursting at the seams.

"Look at this."

Ginny's head snapped up, and she reached out to snatch the note out of Corrinne's hands. Staring at it in bewilderment, she looked at Corrinne. "Let's show the boys!"

Quickly, they sped downstairs to the common-room, where Harry, Ron and Neville were waiting impatiently. Neville, who had been pacing up and down the floor, gave a start upon seeing the girls steal out of the dormitory. Harry and Ron immediately jumped out of their seats and stared at the girls expectantly as they reached the fireplace. Ginny quickly handed over the paper, and Harry scanned through it:

_Two, two, and three strides,_

Cuts across him, a magic that divides.

A labryinth of secrets, a ring of truth,

Keeps his power, keeps him aloof.

All that I know I pen with fear

For soon he will make me disappear.

"It's Hermione's handwriting all right," said Harry, who had trouble controlling his breath and heart rate at the same time. "Is this – is this a clue for us?"

He flipped the note over. There was nothing.

"What spell did Hermione use to try conjuring words out of Riddle's diary?" asked Ron, suddenly.

Harry stared at him and thought for a long while.

Finally, a flicker of a smile came across his face.

"_Aparecium!_"

There was a glimmer of light from the middle of the note, then it faded.

Then a row of words appeared in the middle; in Hermione's beautiful script.

"_Seven cuts across V. Note from DM._"

"I'm assuming V is Voldemort, and DM is – " Ron broke off, his eyes hardening at the name.

"Note from Malfoy?" Ginny asked, incredulously. "She got this note from Malfoy?"

Harry's mind was running wild with images of Hermione and Draco suddenly being more chummy than he had hoped for, but he shook them away, feeling highly agitated as the image of the note blurred before him. He rubbed his eyes furiously.

"So the ferret's scared that Voldemort will wave a wand over him and poof! There he goes?" Ron asked coldly. "The ferret can actually feel fear?"

"Two, two, and three, gives seven," said Corrinne, throwing a sharp glare at Ron. "We've got to find out what these cuts that divide You-Know-Who are."

There was a sudden burst of light at the empty fireplace; all of them were startled backwards.

"Ronald? Ronald Weasley?"

"It's Mum!" gasped Ron, and so did Ginny. Tentatively, Ron leaned forward to see his mother's anxious face in the fire. "Mum, what are you doing?"

"Oh, Ron, is there trouble at Hogwarts? Are you safe?"

"What's wrong, Mum?" Ron looked perplexed.

"Oh I was so afraid; the Order just got a call to go down..." Suddenly, her face looked terrified, and there was some shuffling. All of them had to strain to hear the following conversation.

"But Arthur, no – I know it's secret, but – he's our son, Arthur! And Ginny's there! How could – Ron, I'm so sorry, just..."

Her voice was abruptly cut off, and Arthur Weasley's voice was grim as he spoke next, his face refusing to appear in the fire. "That's all, son, I'm sorry your mother was overreacting. There is no alert for now, I repeat, there is – "

Mr Weasley's voice was also abruptly halted, but only because Harry had thrown a handful of ash and soot at the side into the fireplace to cover the fire. Ron stared at him in astonishment, but Harry looked firmly at all of them.

"This just means two things. One – Dumbledore's back. It's either he or Snape who called the Order to Hogwarts, and it's most likely him. Two – even though he's back, the fact that he needs the Order's help means that Hermione seems to be in danger!"

"What are we waiting for?" Ginny demanded.

Grasping the note tightly in his hand, Harry raced out of the common-room along with the rest of them, towards Albus Dumbledore's office once again.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Draco watched with an eagle eye as Wentervale slowly moved towards Hermione's unconscious figure. To his surprise, the white emptiness surrounding them slowly faded away, revealing the dark, slimy textures of a cave that made up walls, ground, and ceiling. Suddenly, he felt claustrophobic.

"Where – where are we?" He tried to maintain his composure as his teeth chattered with the chilly air that seemed to swirl around him. He flicked his wand out, but Wentervale was faster, and with a murmur, it was brighter; the air circulation seemed to have eased, and there was a wave of warmth that came with each air current, making Draco feel a little better. But he didn't feel much better with Wentervale's disfigured face in front of him, that crooked smile still plastered on his patched skin.

"In the depths of Optimisticheskaya," said Wentervale, as he raised his hands above Hermione. A pale blue light glowed in the space between his palms and Hermione's body, and Draco couldn't help but look mesmerised. But at the sound of the name, he frowned.

"Where? Optimistic what?"

"Optimisticheskaya," replied Wentervale, nonchalantly. "West Ukraine. Specifically, Korolivka."

"You have got to be kidding me," Draco gasped. "We're in Ukraine? But we didn't even –"

"I created a Teleporting Veil at the hole entrance where you flew in to dodge the dragon, or me," said Wentervale, his eyes now closed as he continued to murmur some words. The blue light became a little more intense and darker. "The Veil was my way of escaping the Inferi."

Draco didn't say anything; he glared expectantly at Wentervale to continue.

Wentervale opened his eyes and looked back at Draco. "You are right. I wanted you to come, so that I can tell you my story."

Draco remained silent.

"Let us start from the beginning. As you know Draco, the Dark Lord entrusts four of his most loyal Death Eaters –" Draco snorted at that, but Wentervale was nonplussed. "To his secrets. Each of us had one secret, one Horcrux. I believe the reason why the Dark Lord did this was because he could send someone to protect the Horcrux in place of him."

"We all somehow knew that the secrets the others held were the other Horcruxes of the Dark Lord. But we knew that each Horcrux had its own deadly power. Betray the Dark Lord as a pack of four, and we'd all be dead before we tried finding out the other few Horcruxes. Needless to say, I had no idea who the other three Death Eaters were, and at that time, I was fiercely loyal to the Dark Lord and swore to keep his secret safe till my dying day. I am sure now you have come to know of the story that I healed the Dark Lord just after the Battle of the Department of Mysteries. Shortly after, he regained full strength and sought to gather all of us to rage a final battle against both the Muggle and wizarding worlds."

"However, one thing he said made me turn against him completely." And Wentervale's eyes hardened, almost glowing golden; the sly smile had vanished into a cold, hard look.

Draco slowly knelt down, then gazed harshly at the man. "What?"

"After the battle was over, we all had to make sacrifices."

Draco swallowed hard. He had long assumed of the sacrifices the Dark Lord made his minions do, but it was chilling to hear it being affirmed. But it was one thing to glorify yourself in the name of the Dark Lord by dying doing his services, and another to be killed by him and shamed for being an incompetent fool. Draco felt the familiar lightheadednesss overtake him as he thought about his father. Strange how he used to be resentful of his father's hardhanded measures in his childhood, and yet now he was aching so badly for Lucius Malfoy to just appear in front of him again, whole and alive.

"You should have known that was coming." Draco's voice was rough.

"Yes I did," said Wentervale, pausing to concentrate on the blue light. Draco stared down at Hermione, who was still not moving. "But when I say sacrifices, I don't mean kill ourselves. No, the Dark Lord wanted his loyal minions to stick around."

Draco's gaze returned to Wentervale. "So?"

"He wanted us to sacrifice our families."

Draco wondered how his father had responded to that.

A sense of suspicion crept up upon him.

But before he could delve into his feelings, Wentervale continued. "I knew that he would want us to make sacrifices. Myself, I was more than willing. But I did not want my kin to suffer for my ideals. When Lanneria first married Jeremiah Greengrass forty years ago, I made her change her name to Lily Greengrass. I was eager to be recognised by the Dark Lord; I was training myself to be proficient in the Dark Arts from books that I had nicked from various places, and I hung out very often at Knockturn Alley, hoping to meet a Dark wizard or two. But I couldn't let Lanneria suffer for my decision. She was very against me becoming a Death Eater, but she knew that many pureblood families were starting to pledge allegiance towards this powerful force. She knew that she could not stop me as well. Even though Lanneria and I have different mothers, she cared for me just like I was her very own full brother..."

Wentervale was clearly very protective of his half-sister, Draco noted.

"A Dark wizard finally discovered me and my Healing abilities, roping me in. So when I started out as a Death Eater, my family slate was clean. I had no kin."

Wentervale raised his hands higher; the ball of light glowed even brighter.

"But after years of service to the Dark Lord, after the First Wizarding War, I fell in love with someone."

Draco raised his eyebrows.

"The Dark Lord knew who she was – I couldn't risk her life when I heard of this. To be loyal to him meant a very one-tracked mind. Your aunt Bellatrix is one such person. Very one-tracked. So I began to realise that perhaps my future would not lie with the Dark Lord. Then, I had also just discovered that I had the Newtzer's Disease. It was the perfect excuse to leave the Death Eaters; degenerative motor skills would impede my ability to fight, and the Dark Lord had no use for an invalid. An ex-Death Eater who left on his own will and approved by the Dark Lord, would have to live abroad as an exile."

"I also knew that the Dark Lord would not kill me even if I left his service, despite me knowing one of his most well-kept secrets, because I had Healed him back to life – I was his benefactor." Wentervale curled his lip in a smirk. However, that smirk fell apart as he continued, his voice now shaking.

"But then he killed my son."

Draco's eyes widened. Wentervale pressed the ball of light closer to Hermione's centre, and concentrated for a while. Suddenly, the light twitched a little towards green, but Wentervale pushed harder, and it reverted to the aqua blue colour of earlier.

"Yes. I had a son with Seraphina. It was a grave mistake, but yet a most beautiful one. Unfortunately, it seems that the Dark Lord decided that if he cannot kill me, he will kill somebody I love to warn me of the dire consequences of spilling the secret."

Wentervale's voice was cracking. Draco flinched. He wasn't used to listening to people's life stories, but the word 'kill' seemed to ignite something in him everytime it was mentioned.

"I had exiled myself to the old Soviet Union nations to find a place for my family. In the chaos of fighting for independence, nobody would want to enter this region; the most dangerous is the safest, after all. But before I got to go back, I got news that my son was abducted. And killed."

When Wentervale didn't continue, Draco ventured, "But it seems to have the opposite effect on you, I presume?"

The sly smirk came back. "I owled the Daily Prophet and told them that the Dark Lord has secrets entrusted to his followers. When the Dark Lord knew, I heard at first he just wanted to leave it alone – now that the other Death Eaters knew, they would be loyal to him in order to gain that coveted status as his secret-bearer. But I think he eventually came to the notion that it would be highly dangerous to have me lurking around."

"Now that the Dark Lord was incensed, all the more I couldn't come back. I told Seraphina to come and find me. But on her way –"

Draco closed his eyes. Maldash Wentervale had been pushed into betraying the Dark Lord – by the Dark Lord's own hands. Bloody hands.

"Mmm-mm?"

Draco's eyes flew open. Hermione was stirring!

"Granger!" He quickly made to lift her up, but Wentervale put out a hand to stop him. Instead, Hermione was staring straight at Wentervale's disfigured face.

"AHHHHHH!" she screamed, jerking up immediately.

Draco stared at her, not knowing whether to be furious, worried, or amused.

She swung around to stare at him, her eyes blazing. "What – where – who - ?"

"Relax, Granger." Draco chuckled, leaning back. "I see you've completely healed. Well, that's our bloke."

Hermione swung around again to stare at Wentervale, who covered his face with his hood again. "You're – Maldash Wentervale?" Her voice didn't seem surprised, and Draco looked at her questioningly.

"Do I have to tell my story again?" There was a hint of lament in Wentervale's weary voice.

"I heard you," whispered Hermione, looking down at her lap.

"What?" Draco stared at her.

"I don't know – I heard a story in my dreams. A story of – " She winced. Then she looked at Wentervale. "Your story, wasn't it?"

"I'm glad I don't have to repeat it," said Wentervale, a little kindly. Then he paused and gave her a queer look. "You are a very bright witch."

Draco was now taken aback by Wentervale's compliment to Hermione, who seemed to be blushing a little. "You just called her a Mudblood moments ago! What's with the niceties?"

Now it was Hermione's turn to frown, but Wentervale merely smirked. "I was a Death Eater, but I wreaked havoc because I was a discontented young fool. And the ability to assume power over anything for those moments of havoc gives one a strong sense of unrivalled power and unbridled freedom. The Dark Lord also promised a new world order. A new world order that would recognise us as leaders of this world we have come to overtake."

"Freedom?" Hermione was now scoffing. "You call that kind of terrorism freedom?"

"It is freedom for the terrorists, no?" Wentervale's hollow laugh reverberated around the cave walls. "But my issue wasn't with the blood statuses, or the quest for immortality; it was to be recognised as an individual. Before I was a Death Eater, I was nothing. I was scrabbling at people's feet in Knockturn Alley, picking up their wretched old books and gossip. I was never eligible to enter Hogwarts, for some reason or another. I was a prodigy at Healing, but nobody seemed to take notice."

His eyes narrowed. "But now, if you ask anyone in the wizarding world, is there anyone out there who doesn't know who Maldash Wentervale is? The Healing prodigy? Even before my blabber in the Daily Prophet, which has unwittingly turned me quite infamous I must say. It is just like how people know the Carrows, Bellatrix Lestrange..." He cackled. "And I suppose your father, Draco, even though he prefers to stay out of the limelight in connection with the Dark Lord."

Draco glared coldly at him.

"And Severus Snape," mused Wentervale, his eyebrows raised. "Who never publicly allies with the Dark Lord, of course."

There was no response from Draco, but Hermione's bushy hair seemed to be prickling with electricity as she, too, glared at Wentervale. "So in your opinion, one can just get in and out of this wonderful life as and when one pleases, isn't that so? And instead of getting rid of the Dark Lord yourself, you coward, you lure Draco here so that he can do your bidding, isn't it? Aren't you just revelling in your ability to have power over people!"

Hermione's tirade startled Draco, but Wentervale merely laughed again. "A feisty lady! I see she is not a lamb, Draco."

Hermione was about to comment on the use of the word 'lamb' when Wentervale continued. "No, I did not lure Draco here. Or at least, I think, I was merely leading him to come get what he wanted."

"I'm working for the Dark Lord!" roared Draco, whipping out his wand.

"I told you Draco, you are no match for me."

"Oh yeah? Try me. Besides, you're already going to die with that disease of yours, I'm merely granting your death wish earlier."

"Then you'll not get anything out of me that you wanted to get."

Draco's eyes flashed with rage.

"You want to come here not on account of the Dark Lord. You want to avenge your father. Draco, I'm sure the Dark Lord knows this as well."

Hermione gasped.

"There is no need for alarm, young lady." Wentervale chuckled. "I'm sure it is obvious to the wizarding world that the Dark Lord's wish for Draco to take over Lucius' position is not so much to give him power, than to get him to complete the missions he wants, and then wipe him out completely."

Draco was having trouble controlling his temper.

"And I know you will avenge your father, the way your father wanted to protect you." Wentervale's voice had suddenly grown softer, and Draco jerked. "I'm sure you understand by now, Draco, that the reason why your father let me go, is because of the same reason I left the Death Eaters."

Wentervale removed his hood once again, his piercing yellow eyes gazing at Draco, who was now shaking uncontrollably. "Lucius didn't want you and Narcissa to die for him. But it was inevitable. There is no way to kill the Dark Lord other than to destroy his Horcruxes. And I can tell you now that your father was the other trusted Death Eater that the Dark Lord entrusted another of his secrets to. And this is the very place he was told one of the Horcruxes were kept."

Draco just stared. He was now quite mind-boggled with all the information. Hermione, too, was staring in complete astonishment at the revelation of so many things.

"When your father lured me out – he had used the most painful thing of all to do so. He had combed many of the Eastern European countries in hope to find me, and then when he had reached Georgia, he told the Death Eaters that my son's remains were there. When Severus Snape heard it, he told Lanneria about it."

"To cut a long story short, Lanneria and I had been communicating via a very Dark magic communication tool that I had set up so that it would not be traced. Later, she met Severus when she was sending her granddaughters to school. And being desperate, she had inevitably leaked out that she knew me, through her conversation with him, in hope to protect Daphne and Astoria. She had been convinced that he was working for Albus Dumbledore."

"This is how Snape knows who Lanneria Wentervale is!" Hermione was enlightened.

"Of course, Lanneria was terrified, and I was completely overtaken with emotions about my son. So I left to find Lucius in Georgia, and was inevitably cornered."

"When I told Lucius that I was attempting to destroy the Dark Lord's Horcruxes, his resolve to kill me faltered. He knew that if the Dark Lord was gone, he need not sacrifice his family either."

Now Draco knew why Snape could not go ahead to find Maldash Wentervale himself, and why Dumbledore had insisted Draco go on his own to find the man. Wentervale was desperate to see Draco in the flesh; even without Draco asking about what happened to his father, Wentervale was more than eager to tell him about it. After all, the man was dying, and he wanted to leave his legacy of destroying the Dark Lord's Horcruxes to someone.

There was a searing pain in his arm, and Draco clutched at it. The Dark Mark.

"When the Dark Lord reminded him of his duty once again, Lucius found me once more and tried to steel his nerves and capture me. But the more I talked about you and Narcissa, the more he found it hard to resist. Finally, he told me of the secret he was entrusted with, and that he knew with that, and with his letting me go a second time, he would meet his death with the Dark Lord."

Draco shuddered violently; Hermione couldn't bear to stare at Wentervale any longer.

"Your father sacrificed his life for you. And for the rest of the people who want their families intact," whispered Wentervale, who started coughing madly again. When he recovered, he managed a smirk. "And because there is no such thing as a new world order with the Dark Lord, no such thing as freedom... it will be a dictatorship, or even anarchy - "

"You were the one who said he gave you the ability to be an _individual_," said Draco, snidely.

"Well..." Wentervale paused, then he smiled faintly. "He made me an individual. But at the same time, he can crush me completely. I've realised that without Seraphina and our son, I am nobody once again. I can no longer communicate with Lanneria for fear of pulling her and her family deeper into hot water. And this will happen to others. There will be no end. By the time we wait for him to have his showdown with Harry Potter, the mission to destroy his Horcruxes will grow harder with his increasing invincibility, and his increasing madness."

"So – this is _your_ mission as much as it is mine, isn't it, Draco?"

Draco couldn't speak; the words were all choked up at his throat. The Dark Mark was hurting, his head was hurting, his ears were ringing with the words of Maldash Wentervale.

"So have you destroyed anything? How many Horcruxes do you know of?" asked Hermione, desperately.

Wentervale looked quizzically at Draco. "You have her on your mission to help you?"

Draco curled his lip. "Help? A Death Eater? You think?"

Hermione gave a shudder, which did not escape Wentervale's glittering eyes. He looked straight at her.

"The tunnels that you have entered, the illusion of the stone labyrinth I created for you to manouevre your way here, are the areas that I have combed so far." Wentervale wheezed as he seemed to squeeze himself in the hooded robe as much as he could. "I still cannot find the Horcrux. Lucius said he only knew of the location, not the exact placing of the Horcrux. But I believe your father would not lie to me, Draco. I saw it in his eyes."

Draco was trying hard to stifle a snort.

"The one that you saw in the cave you two were at earlier..." Wentervale paused. "Did you not attempt to retrieve it? Or did Albus Dumbledore stop you from doing so?"

Hermione's mouth dropped open. Wentervale laughed. "I know that old man came around. I saw him on his previous visit. He came to find me on the other entrance when the Inferi had gone back into the water..."

"That wily old fox said he had turned back immediately!" said Draco, angrily.

Wentervale shrugged. "Well, he came after me. To that same chasm where you saw me as the dragon."

"You were that dragon! An Advanced Animagus!" Hermione gasped, whereas Draco looked indifferent. "If you had told Draco that earlier, I really didn't hear that!"

"He tried to kill us, if you remember!" retorted Draco, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Wentervale ignored his outbursts. "He didn't venture beyond thereafter."

"So the Horcrux..." Hermione began.

"Is not yet destroyed," said Wentervale, ruefully. "It is the one I knew of. I know not what it is exactly, but it is at a bottom of a bowl filled with magic water, that must be drunk. But this magic water is poisonous, and overconsumption of it will be fatal. Given my health condition, I am unable to do so. I have been trying spell after spell, charm after charm, but it always just brings the Inferi out of the water, and I will have to wield fire to ward them off. I think the Dark Lord must be amused at my pathetic attempts; he knows I cannot drink the water. But he does not come over himself. He has refused to kill me himself on account of my Healing him back to life."

"I don't understand," said Draco, testily. "The Inferi forced us towards the area where you became a dragon. Surely the Dark Lord knows that because there are dangers there, so whoever lurks around the area will become dragon chomp. Can't he tell you're the dragon?"

Wentervale shook his head. "Because there was a dragon there before."

Hermione's eyes were huge. "You killed it then?"

"My ability as an Animagus is also rather profound, as much as I hate to exaggerate," replied Wentervale. "My dragon turned out more superior than it."

A hint of a smile tugged at the twisted lips. "I know the anti-apparition wards around the area would also prevent a Teleporting Veil to be used. So I found the crack, squeezed through it, and noticed that the Inferi did not follow me. They seemed unable to squeeze through the crack, I know not why. But the Dark Lord does not waste time on people who will eventually die. He figured that either I fell down the chasm and was eaten up by the dragon, or I'd be unable to move. Which meant that if the Dark Lord wanted to send someone to finish me off, he could."

"So he has passed on the secret of this Horcrux's whereabouts to another Death Eater?" asked Hermione.

"Yes."

Draco was about to ask who, but Wentervale just went on.

"But his anti-apparition wards didn't reach till the end of the chasm, where I could place my Teleporting Veil. So this one Death Eater has been sent time and again to fight me. But I escape with my Teleporting Veil."

"Back to the Horcruxes," said Hermione, quickly, before Draco could say a word. "Surely you know the whereabouts of one more Horcrux."

Wentervale's eyes glittered once again. "I do?"

"_A ring of truth_," quoted Hermione, glancing sideways at a rather livid Draco.

"Ah. So Lucius has been cryptic, hasn't he?" Wentervale smirked, eyeing Draco, who was glaring murderously at him. "It is actually only a theory between the two of us. Neither of us are aware of any more secrets, as we know not who the other trusted Death Eaters are. But under the Dark Lord, Draco, have you noticed that there is this very precious ring on his finger?"

"No, I haven't," muttered Draco, the memory of Voldemort's figure floating into his mind. The raised wand; the jet of light; the searing pain; the mark of a skull and snake slowly appearing on his flesh, slithering and hissing, blackening his arm... and the skeletal fingers that held that wand with the light snaking out of it – bare and pale.

"Ah but you see," said Wentervale. "He used to wear it all the time. Sometimes he would even stroke it, and rather strangely, spit at it when he was angry. Then one day, it just disappeared."

"The Dark Lord adores precious things. It is more than likely that he uses them for his Horcruxes. His soul must be encased in something glorious, beautiful, dangerous..."

"And there's one of course, that has been destroyed a long time ago. It has never been explicitly mentioned as a Horcrux. But from the stories I've heard, it seems more than likely that it is the one."

"What is it?" demanded Draco, although he tried not to sound over-eager.

Wentervale chuckled. "Make a guess. A Horcrux can only be destroyed with the most powerful of magic – for example, a basilisk fang."

Hermione gave a gasp of recognition, and Draco swivelled to stare at her.

"Tom Riddle's diary!" she whispered. "There was a piece of soul in there; he possessed Ginny through it!"

Draco raised his eyebrows. He had not heard of this story.

"Very good, Miss Granger." Wentervale nodded. "Exactly. And the reason why Lucius and I have speculated seven in total, is because – "

"Seven is a very powerful number in witchcraft and wizardry," said Hermione, stiffly. "It represents the apex of power."

"Excellent," rasped Wentervale, and Draco almost expected him to say 'fifty points to Gryffindor!' thereafter. "So one is destroyed, we know the location of two, and we're aware of one possible Horcrux, but know not its location. That leaves three others unknown. Well, since the diary was not known to any Death Eater to be a Horcrux, not even Lucius who had attempted to deposit it on Ginny Weasley previously, thinking that it was cursed..."

"So the remaining three – only one of them is known to a Death Eater – the other two we have no hints of them at all?" The scale of the mission suddenly hit Hermione.

"This is insane!" Draco shot Wentervale a withering look. "The one in the cave is not retrievable, this one is hidden somewhere in this huge labyrinth, the ring is probably like somewhere on Earth, two are nearly impossible to know..."

"It's clear to me that you wish to embark on this mission..."

"DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ARE SAYING?" exploded Draco, furiously. "I've become a Death Eater to take on my father's role! To atone for his sins! I work for the Dark Lord, Maldash Wentervale, I'm not killing you because I know it's not worth killing someone who is about to die! I have risked my life to come here only because I want to find out the truth of my father's death. Now that I know it, I'm not bloody likely to –"

"Betray the Dark Lord? Not even after you know the reason for your father's death?" Wentervale cut in, coldly. His eyes seemed to glaze over with a pale sheath. "Then becoming a Death Eater is an insult to your father, for what he wants, you're doing the exact opposite!"

There was a violent spasm in Draco, as he sank down to his knees, trying to grit his teeth and handle the jolts of pain running through his body. Hermione was frightened; she knelt down beside him, not knowing what to do. She looked up at Wentervale desperately. "Is that all you know then? If that's all, then please, just go away! You don't control his life!"

Draco thought he saw stars in front of him. His father's voice, his mother's voice, Snape's voice, Dumbledore's voice... now even Granger's voice pleading with Wentervale to leave...

Wentervale hesitated, then he raised his eyes to look at Hermione, whose face was now deathly pale with the tension mounting between the two men.

All of a sudden, he, too, had a violent spasm, and there he was, rocking back and forth madly, clutching at his robes. His hood fell back, and his distorted face had the most horrible expression on – a mixture of helplessness, insanity, fear; a monstrous image – for he was crying out loud, howling with the pain.

Draco snapped out of his own spasms, and gasped in horror, as he and Hermione watched, terrified. The patches on Wentervale's body were suddenly enlarging, and spreading all over his body like huge dark circles.

Hermione screamed and ran forward, pulling out her wand, but Wentervale's outstretched hand grabbed her hand. She shrieked again. "NO!"

"D-don't..." His raspy voice issued from the open mouth of the creature that was slowly falling apart. "It's – ti-ime. I ..." His other hand reached out into his robes and pulled out a pouch, thrusting it hastily into Hermione's hands. At the same time, he looked towards Draco and gasped once again, as his flesh seemed to be blackening completely, and he seemed to become more shrivelled with every spasm.

Draco rushed forward as well, staring in complete terror with the disintegration of the man before him. He had barely met him for long, and now - he felt like he had so much to say, but yet nothing was tumbling out of his mouth. All he could do was to just watch, and there was a final parting smirk on Wentervale's face as he breathed out the words,

"Remember... your... father..."

And then there was a burst of light; Hermione shrieked once again, and Draco let out a gasp.

When the light receded in a bang, swallowed up by the darkness, there was nothing left in front of them except a few specks of dust.

Draco was shaking; he was breathing in stunted gasps, and he could feel the lightheadedness overtake him, when he noticed that Hermione was opening the pouch with trembling fingers. Slowly, she brought out the item that was in it.

"It's a – a basilisk fang." A tear drop ran down her cheek. "To – to destroy the Horcruxes."

Slipping the fang back into the pouch, Hermione burst into tears, shuddering with each sob. She turned and grabbed Draco's arm, crying hard, while Draco himself merely stared at the emptiness before him, his mind clouded with every single thought possible, causing his head to ache. Pain coursed through his body, but it wasn't just literal pain now. He absent-mindedly reached out to put his hand into the brown curls of Hermione's head, feeling her shake with every sob, feeling the hot tears that were seeping into his skin, and his body gave a violent shudder once again.

"_Remember... your... father..._"


	20. Seeking Answers

As Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks stepped out of the fireplace into Dumbledore's office, they joined the Weasleys, Hestia Jones, Dedalus Diggle, Elphias Doge, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Alastor Moody, and Minerva McGonagall. Albus Dumbledore was seated behind his desk, his eyebrows furrowed together as though deep in thought. Lupin cast a glance at McGonagall, who shook her head slightly, although he was a bit taken aback by how worried she seemed to be.

"What's going on?" asked Tonks, before Lupin could voice the question himself.

"Where's Severus?" demanded Molly. "Why is he _never_ here?"

"I have requested for him not to join this meeting," replied Dumbledore, calmly. Then he rose, drawing himself to his full height, before walking towards the Order. "I have asked you all here to inform you that a way to destroy Voldemort has been discovered."

There were a few whistles, and widened eyes. Lupin narrowed his eyes.

"Is that what you were talking about during summer? About a possibility that Voldemort practises very Dark Magic to attain near immortality?"

"Yes, Remus, it is related," said Dumbledore, pushing his half-moon spectacles higher. "You see, I have managed to enlist some help in obtaining a very precious memory from my colleague, Horace Slughorn, about him telling young Tom Riddle about this dark magic called a Horcrux."

Lupin gasped, as did many of them. Arthur Weasley and his family looked rather perplexed.

Dumbledore briefly explained what a Horcrux was to the Weasleys, causing them to have the same reaction as the rest upon understanding. Then he looked grimly at the rest, raising a mangled hand to them all. Tonks let out another gasp.

"I have just managed to destroy one of them. And I mean – just." Dumbledore picked out the Sword of Godric Gryffindor on his table, nudging the pieces of metal at its tip. "I found this ring of Marvolo Gaunt's at his home – pardon me, Remus." He smiled, seeing Lupin's bewildered expression. "Gaunt is the father of Tom Riddle's mother Merope. I have seen Tom wearing this ring whilst he was at Hogwarts, claiming that it was a very precious heirloom. When he became Lord Voldemort, he wore it very often too. But when it finally disappeared from his fingers, I went to hunt for this ring – and deduced that it might be in his family home. I just managed to retrieve it and stab it with the sword."

"Is this – is this why you have been leaving Hogwarts in the night?" whispered McGonagall, with a frightened look etched on her face.

"Yes, Minerva," said Dumbledore. "But this ring has been cursed very badly; whoever comes within reach will be severely cursed for life."

There was another round of gasps.

"Luckily for my excellent skills, pardon my humility, the most I have been afflicted with – is a hand like this," Dumbledore added cheerfully. Then he became serious. "I have actually sent two students on a mission for me. Only one man knows more of these Horcruxes than we do. And I am sure you all have heard of Maldash Wentervale."

This was too much for Lupin. He charged forward, right in front of Dumbledore, and glared at him furiously.

"Harry didn't even know about Wentervale! We promised not to tell him! How could you send Harry to such danger?"

"Is Ron with him?" asked Molly, frantically, and Arthur looked equally horrified.

It was McGonagall who spoke up next. "I'm not sure whether to be relieved – but it is not Harry, Remus. And neither is it Ronald, Molly."

Lupin spun around, taken aback. "What?"

"As you say this, I believe the people you have just mentioned are now standing outside my office door, eavesdropping on our conversation."

Dumbledore waved his wand; his office door unlocked, and the spiral staircase outside swivelled. The Order members stared at the doorway expectantly.

From the staircase emerged a rather red-faced Harry, along with a purple-faced Ron, a white-faced Ginny, followed by Corrinne and Neville who sported various shades of those colours. Then from behind, there was a serene voice. "Oh, I thought you all might be here... I couldn't sleep after all!" And Luna Lovegood appeared with a dreamy look on her face. "Good night, Professor."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Welcome, my dears."

"I'm sorry, Professor, I didn't..." Harry muttered as he stumbled in with the rest. Then Ron saw his family and gawked. Arthur looked positively livid at their presence.

"I just told you all not to worry!" He glared at Molly instead when he said that, and she cringed. "And why was the Floo communication cut halfway?"

Ron's mouth hung open, but no words came out, and he shut it again, looking mournful. Harry, on the other hand, ignored Arthur Weasley's outburst. Instead, he stared straight at Lupin, whose expression was that of utmost relief. The relief transformed into puzzlement soon after, as Lupin turned his gaze back to Dumbledore.

"Then who did you send?"

-.-.-.-.-.-

In the cold, damp depths of Optimisticheskaya, there were two figures huddling together. Slowly, the shudders of one of them began to ease, and the sobs began to subside.

A gust of wind blew through, jolting Draco, and he suddenly realised that his hand was on top of the mass of brown curls. Immediately, he withdrew his hand, and stared awkwardly at the girl who was holding onto his arm.

Hermione felt the lack of touch on her head, and suddenly remembered where she was and what she was doing. Swiftly, she pulled away from Draco, and looked away from him, brushing away the wet, sticky trails on her cheeks. The memory of Wentervale dissipating into thin air was still etched into her mind. Suddenly she realised that she really wished for Harry and Ron to be beside her. Although Draco...

The thought of Harry and Ron was more overpowering however; she was suddenly overwhelmed with images of them laughing cheerfully, and teasing one another. She felt a lump in her throat as she thought of them, and wondered if they had become so desperate finding her that they would rummage through her things and eventually pull out her Defence Against the Dark Arts book to find the note she had left them? Would they understand what she wrote? Casting a swift glance at Draco, who was looking away, she felt a pang of guilt hit her. Even though he was unlikely to have thought her completely altruistic, the fact that she was inevitably going to let Harry and Ron into his secrets felt like she was betraying him.

It was best that she didn't think along those lines.

"We've got to get out of here," came his stiff voice.

Hermione looked up and saw his eyes fixated on her, but she noticed that they weren't hard and cold as they used to be. It seemed that he was rather affected by Wentervale's death as well.

"What do you mean, get out of here?" asked Hermione, softly.

Draco turned his gray eyes to meet Hermione's that were now red from crying, but he knew he failed to make them gleam like steel bolts. He just hadn't a word to counter her.

"Wentervale's right," whispered Hermione, gazing at him deeply. "This is _your_ mission as much as it was his. Your father would have – "

"Don't talk about my father like you know him!" burst out Draco, angrily. He grabbed his left arm with his right hand, and shoved the shirt sleeve up to reveal the sinister mark. Hermione winced when she saw it, and was about to look away when Draco hissed, "LOOK! Look at it, you damn well look at it closely. This is a mark of a servant of the Dark Lord. No matter how well I compartmentalise my mind, no matter how well I cover it all up, it will be futile. My father was a fool for letting Wentervale go. He was a fool to commit suicide! He was a fool to go against the Dark Lord! He was – "

"A fool for loving you? And your mother?" Hermione's soft voice cut through his angry tones, and his words fell like stringless puppets. And so did he, his hands withdrawing and falling limply at his sides.

"I don't know your father, Draco Malfoy, I admit that. All I know was that he was a cruel man who didn't know how to treat people with basic respect, let alone house elves." Draco snorted, but she ignored him. "All I know was that he slipped Tom Riddle's diary into Ginny's cauldron in our second year and led her to open the Chamber of Secrets..."

"Wait, what was that about?" demanded Draco, looking suspiciously at Hermione. "Ginny Weasley opened the Chamber of Secrets with a diary my father gave her?"

Hermione sighed, and explained to him what had happened exactly. A cloud cast over Draco's face as he listened to what his father had done, but other than that, he had not much expression.

"At least one Horcrux is destroyed," said Hermione, firmly.

"Oh yeah, and there are like six others." Draco rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Granger."

"I have a name."

"Granger," said Draco, pointedly. Then he looked away.

Hermione gazed at him. She knew that there must be an internal battle raging within him. Even if he chose to embark on Wentervale's legacy of finding the remaining Horcruxes, Voldemort would track him down and kill him. After all, he was not indebted to Draco the way he was to Wentervale. Draco was no match for Voldemort at all. Her heart rate accelerated as she thought of that. But if they tried to leave now, they wouldn't have a chance to get back here. It was Wentervale who had allowed the Teleporting Veil to accept them – she had read about Veils, and that they were two-way, but only for one use.

Draco's mind was in a whirl. Even if he wanted to escape, there was no way of going back the way they came from; the illusion of stone walls had been shattered, and to navigate the route back via the unfamiliar cave walls would be highly dangerous. But the fact that they now knew only as much as Wentervale did was not at all reassuring. They wouldn't know what they were in for. If the Dark Lord placed Inferi around the first Horcrux they saw in the cave Dumbledore brought them to, what else would he do to protect his other Horcruxes?

He tried his best not to look at Hermione Granger. Yes, there was still her. Even though he knew that without her, he wouldn't have come this far, and neither would he progress much further if he chose to move on alone, he didn't exactly want her to come along. Part of it was that – this was _his_ own personal mission. And her assumptions about his inner feelings were making him very uneasy. A Death Eater shouldn't be so easily exposed, not when his heart was not with the Dark Lord. Part of it was that – after watching her spiral down the chasm earlier on, bloodied and broken, he couldn't help but cringe at the possibilities of all kinds of things happening to her. Gryffindors were known for their courage, but he couldn't have her rush into danger because she wanted to help him.

Draco's scowl deepened. He hated it when he started thinking for other people. He was the one most in danger now! Any moment, and the Dark Lord might summon him. If that happened, how was he supposed to come back to this place again?

"I think..." Hermione ventured to say, and Draco couldn't help but look at her now. Her eyes were shining again, and he groaned inwardly.

Every time her eyes shone, it couldn't be a very good thing.

"I think we should at least try to destroy the Horcrux that is in this cave. Find some way. Then we try our best to get back to the Veil – I've read about such stuff, and it's two-way and should still be there. Last time we'd ever need to use it anyway. At least we know how to get to the first cave – through Fawkes. Then we can continue planning about getting to the other Horcruxes, right?"

Bloody hell. She was cornering him.

"Draco Malfoy." She sounded like she was his teacher reprimanding him.

He didn't budge.

"Professor Dumbledore said he was exploring in the first cave; surely he won't leave us to die here right?" Hermione tried to sound optimistic now.

Draco refused to respond. Instead, he let out a low snort.

"Hey!" She started to sound panicky, and reached out to shake him. He brushed her hand away angrily. "Draco, please!" She was pleading now. "You can't just stop here! After all that Wentervale and your father went through to get you here!"

The mention of his father for the umpteenth time really sparked a fire in Draco, and he swiftly turned to glare at her.

"You're just worried because I'd dump you here," he said with a sneer, even though he knew she wasn't likely to think that way. "Or maybe you're just scared I'd turn around and go back and kill Dumbledore, because all I wanted to know was how my father died!"

There was a deathly silence.

"You can't think that," said Hermione, at last. Her voice was soft once again, and her eyes had lost their shine.

"And why not?" scoffed Draco.

Hermione didn't speak; she merely looked away.

Draco clenched his fists.

It seemed like a long time before she broke the silence. "I think when you decided to come along to find Wentervale, you knew that you were challenging death. And it's the same with me."

Draco could feel the cold spread through his body. He wished he had his robes with him now, and regretted tossing the rags aside earlier on. Or maybe he just wanted something to grip because his fists were so tight now that they hurt.

Finally, he stood up and surveyed his surroundings. Letting out an angry huff, he gestured to Hermione. "So are you moving, or not?"

Her head snapped up; her eyes were shining again.

"I knew it," she whispered.

"Shut up, Granger!" Draco retorted, glowering.

To his utmost surprise, the tears had sprung back into her eyes again, and she had a hint of a smile at the edge of her lips. Then she did break out into a huge smile, despite the tears swimming in her brown eyes. "So I was right – you really didn't become a Death Eater because you wanted to take over your father's position there. You are seeking revenge for your father because you love him. You've been horribly spiteful and full of rage to mask the desire to betray Voldemort..."

Draco couldn't bear to hear all these words coming from Hermione. He took a step forward with his wand in his hand, ready to silence her, but she put out a hand to grab his wrist. He tried to shake it away, but her grip was surprisingly strong. Growling, he glared at her, but her eyes were literally sparkling now.

"Everyone thought you were trying to suck up to Voldemort and be his next loyal minion. And even if they thought you wanted to take revenge, they thought you'd become snarkier and more dangerous. Everybody thinks you're a spy for the Death Eaters in Hogwarts. But all you want is for your father to be avenged. You're not bad, you're not terrible, Draco. You're not."

"I suppose 'everybody' really just means Potter and the Weasel, isn't that so?"

"Now's not the time for wearing masks, Draco." Hermione's grip on his wrist felt really hot to him. "I've seen through all the masks you've been wearing."

His wrist slackened in her grip and his eyes softened.

"Why are you doing this..." His voice trailed off, weakly. Then he cursed inwardly. This girl was incredible; she was actually making him feel like jelly.

Then suddenly, before she could answer, he wrenched his hand out of her grasp, and then swung his wand overhead to throw a light into the far end of the cave. Once the area was lit, a vague outline of a large passageway could be seen.

When he turned back to look at her, she saw that his mask was back up again. The hard expression, the firm jaw, the hint of a sneer. But even as he walked on without waiting for her, she couldn't help smiling again, for now, she knew exactly how to pull down that mask.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Severus Snape tapped his foot impatiently, as he sat as his armchair. Swiftly, he got up and began to circle the rug in his office. Then he switched to pacing up and down, muttering under his breath as he did.

Albus Dumbledore had summoned the Order of the Phoenix to his office, but he had specifically told Snape to stay within his office. This meant that there must be something that if he heard, he would have no choice but to betray confidence to the Dark Lord. Having been told that Draco Malfoy had been whisked away by Dumbledore, along with the know-it-all from Gryffindor, and the fact that Dumbledore was now back without the two of them, could only mean that he had sent both Draco and Hermione Granger somewhere, perhaps on a mission for him! And Dumbledore kept reassuring him that he would explain everything later.

Snape increased his pacing. Draco said he knew what he was doing. If the Dark Lord knows he and Albus had been together on a close basis, and yet had failed to finish the Hogwarts Headmaster off, Draco would be doomed! And he, Severus Snape, was supposed to keep an eye on Draco!

And he had no idea where Draco was now.

The Dark Lord's words came floating back. _You are not the only pair of eyes I've sent to watch this boy._

Snape felt his body tense as he thought of that. _I don't take kindly to traitors._

Whatever was Draco up to?

Suddenly, there was a scrabbling at the fireplace, and Snape swung his great cape around to watch the red flames burst into bluish-green ones. Then the flames subsided a little, and in the crackling hearth, there was the face of Peter Pettigrew, with his buck teeth scraping the edges of the flames.

"What is it, Wormtail?" Snape was clearly not interested in seeing this face at this point in time.

"Here to report..." said Wormtail, eagerly. "...that the exiled traitor is dead!"

Snape stared at the hearth in amazement. "Dead?"

"His time has come, apparently," cackled Wormtail, clearly elated. "The spirits of the dead spoke to the Dark Lord!"

Spirit-summoning was a very Dark Art, and the Dark Lord was very accomplished in it, often summoning spirits of former Death-Eaters to inform him of things in the underworld. It was probably a good thing that one could only summon those who wished to speak to him as much as he wanted to speak to them, otherwise, the Dark Lord would probably have a hard time dealing with all those whom he killed, especially having to handle the insults of Sirius Black and James Potter, Snape thought snidely.

"Noted," said Snape, sharply. With a wave of his hand, the face of Peter Pettigrew vanished from the hearth, and the red flames came licking up at the sides again with a merry crackle.

Just as Snape was making his way back to his desk, there was a loud rap on the door. Frowning deeply, he waved his wand at the door, and it opened, revealing a thoughtful-looking Astoria Greengrass.

"Miss Greengrass, it is way past midnight." Snape's cold voice enunciated every word clearly. "And it doesn't seem like you have an emergency to report."

She walked in, and shut the door behind her. "I suppose anything concerning Draco Malfoy might be considered an emergency?"

Snape was careful not to give anything away. "Is anything the matter?" His curled lip remained for effect.

"Pansy said he's nowhere to be found. I've a good feeling I know what he's up to."

"Miss Greengrass, if this is spite – to do with the missing pendants, I assure you – "

"That Draco is not at fault? Oh but he admitted to it."

Snape narrowed his eyes at her. "Your grandmother said she is not pursuing the matter."

Astoria's auburn hair seemed to glow a deep red in the dim lights of Snape's office; her cat-like green eyes were gleaming as she spoke. "Professor, haven't you wondered how Draco knew about the pendants? I didn't tell him. Or – " Her eyes flared. "Were you in the know as well?"

"What is it – that you have risked coming out after bedtime hours – you wish to tell me?" Snape's voice was curt, but Astoria merely smirked. "I'm not sure if your beloved student told you, but I have reason to believe that Hermione Granger was involved in the plan to steal the pendants."

"That is a grave accusation you are making, Miss Greengrass." Snape eyed her coldly. "Especially one that concerns somebody outside of Slytherin House."

"Oh, of course, she didn't nick the pendants from us, that was certainly Draco." Astoria shrugged her shoulders. "But she found out from Daphne that we had such pendants. And given the astute abilities of that girl, I'm quite sure she put two and two together. Otherwise, my sister and I have had no other encounters with others that revealed the stories behind our pendants. And so –"

"That will do."

"But Professor..."

"Out."

"Professor – " Astoria's furious voice rang out.

"OUT." Snape glared at her.

Fuming, Astoria flung open the door and stalked off, leaving the door agape. Snape sank back into his chair, glowering at the desk in front of him.

So Draco had found out that Lanneria Wentervale was the Greengrass girls' grandmother. And now, of all people to find to assist him, Draco had to find Hermione Granger. He didn't even tell Snape what he was up to, and he had Hermione Granger helping him. Snape could feel his blood boiling. Didn't that boy know what he was in for, being a Death Eater? And one who had just assumed his father's legacy once he had come of age? Didn't he know what a precarious situation he was in now? How could he get one of Potter's sidekicks, and get whisked off –

Did Dumbledore know then? Snape's fists clenched. Did Dumbledore know what Draco wanted to do? He had taken Draco and Hermione Granger to some place knowing that Draco had the mission to kill him, and at the same time harboured his own personal agenda? What did Dumbledore know? Why wasn't that old man telling him anything?

The mark on his left arm started to burn. Snape turned to stare at his arm, then slowly, he rolled up the sleeve. The dark mass on his arm began to whirl and swirl to form the dastardly mark of the skull and serpent. Then he could feel a massive throbbing under his skin, and the mark began to glow green. Trying to keep his emotions in check, he flung his robe sleeve downwards and picked up his quill to scribble something onto a small piece of parchment. Then he got out of his seat, tossed the parchment into the fireplace which sputtered green flames for a moment before reverting back to red, and strode out of his office.

* * *

**A/N:**  
1) My version of the Gaunt ring story is slightly different and more simplistic than what was stated in canon.  
2) The art of spirit-summoning is another one of my own concoctions.


	21. In the Depths of the Unknown

**A/N:** Talking about Dramione relationship, this chapter has oohhh lots of sparks! - haha, that's what makes Dramione so awesome, the electrifying sparks between them despite the heavy curtain of distrust and frustration and uncertainty. Hope you guys will like it! Thanks to reviewers once again, really glad for your comments that spur me to keep posting! Enjoy (:

* * *

"What?" Lupin's eyes were huge and round and disbelieving, as Dumbledore sighed and sank down in his chair. "You sent Hermione with_Draco Malfoy_? Albus, have you lost your mind? That boy is now a Death Eater, everyone knows that!"

"He may be my cousin, but I'm certainly not siding with someone who decided to just take after that snivelling father of his," Tonks added, scowling.

"Professor, I never question your judgement, but I think you've taken it too far this time." Harry was trying hard not to lose his temper. "You're putting Hermione at great risk!"

"I'm afraid so did you, Harry," replied Dumbledore, amiably. "While I did agree to you trying to let Hermione get closer to Draco to find out more, I didn't expect that they struck up a rather amicable partnership."

Harry cringed and looked at his feet, fists clenched.

"Amicable partnership?" Ron was disgusted. "How can Hermione ever have an amicable partnership with that bloody ferret?"

"Maybe we should let the Headmaster explain himself, Mr Weasley," Minerva McGonagall said, grimly.

"I'd like to see what you have to say, sending poor Hermione into such danger!" Molly Weasley was clearly equally protective of Hermione as she was of Harry and her children, and the furious expression on her face said it all. Arthur tried to calm his wife down by holding her shoulders.

Dumbledore looked at Harry. "I would have had you complete this mission, Harry, because Voldemort has earmarked you as the Chosen One. But there is the fact that Wentervale would likely meet no one but Draco. I believe Draco badly wants to find out how his father died, and why his father let Wentervale go twice. At the same time, Wentervale wants to find Draco to pass on the secrets of the Horcruxes, if there are more than one, that is. I don't believe he would trust anybody else to handle the secrets. After all, the Newtzer's Disease is crippling him with the day."

The fireplace gave a sputter, and out of the flames, a piece of parchment was tossed into the air. With a flick of his wand, Dumbledore caught the parchment spinning towards him. Unfolding it, he read it quickly, and then placed the parchment gingerly on the desk.

"And it seems that Wentervale has met his end."

There was silence.

Eventually, Lupin spoke up again, in a grave voice. "Are you saying that Draco wants to avenge his father?"

"He's a threat in Hogwarts!" Corrinne burst out, angrily. "He just wants to emulate his bloody father, get into You-Know-Who's good book – basically he wants to find Wentervale to kill him! And he probably just killed him so that he could curry favour with You-Know-Who and rise up the ranks!"

Dumbledore looked thoughtfully at the raging Corrinne, then cocked his head to one side. "I believe that even as Wentervale is afflicted with the disease, he is still very powerful, way beyond the capabilities of a sixth-year Hogwarts student."

"Malfoy is different!" Corrinne lashed out. "He's learnt all the Dark Arts skills from that murderer of a father!"

"Corrinne, I understand how you feel. But I have reason to believe that Wentervale was not killed by Draco," Dumbledore said, with an air of finality. Neville awkwardly placed a hand on Corrinne's shoulders to try to ease the anger out of her, but she merely shrugged it off, glowering at Dumbledore.

Dumbledore then turned to Lupin. "Draco has become a very good Occlumens, and what I know are merely hypotheses. With regards to Miss Granger, it seems that it was she who helped me obtain the precious memory from Horace about the Horcruxes, and it seems to me that she trusts Draco a lot, and vice versa."

"This is ludicrous!" Ron muttered.

"Professor," Harry said, his knuckles crackling with the tension in his clenched fists. "Did Hermione tell you anything? I – I think she's been hiding things from me and Ron." With that, he motioned to Ginny, and she held out the parchment on which Hermione had scribbled.

Dumbledore got out of his seat once again, and studied the parchment. Then he stroked his flowing beard thoughtfully. "Again, what I think are hypotheses, but I believe that Lucius Malfoy had left behind clues for his son to find Wentervale. For some reason, both of them came to me with the hope to find something in my office to get to him. And what Hermione has written here, are the clues to – what I think should be the locations of some of the Horcruxes."

Harry looked blank. "Horcruxes?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Another round of storytelling..."

-.-.-.-.-.-

"Do you think that since your father is – no longer around..." Hermione swallowed hard before continuing. "That there is another Death Eater who knows of this place?"

Draco didn't reply; he merely trudged on, his eyes scanning the area for any sign that might possibly lead him towards the Horcrux. They had been walking on and on for quite a while already, but there were nothing but cave walls, stalactites, and stalagmites. On one occasion, he thought he saw a shadow, but when he turned, there was nothing. Sleep was coming in waves, and he must have had been hallucinating. He could feel his frustration bubble within him, and Hermione Granger's incessant mumbling behind him was just pushing him over the edge any moment. Her question was definitely not of much help either.

Hermione knew that Draco was rather touchy at this point in time, and decided not to say anymore. She, too, looked around curiously, hoping to catch a glimpse of something to point them in the right way. These caves were too huge for their liking, and Wentervale had only covered a miniscule part of it in comparison.

"There's an opening here," said Draco, suddenly, and Hermione peered over from behind him to see a narrow opening in one of the cave walls as Draco's wand light illuminated it. "Or at least, I think we can squeeze through. Since Dumbledore thinks we're so skinny," he added, with a hint of distaste.

Hermione ignored him and stepped forward. Then she ran her fingers gently over the opening.

"It's a natural opening," she said, frowning. "Not man-made."

Draco said nothing, but pointed his light at the side of the opening, and Hermione walked over to stare at it.

"This is strange. The opening is natural, but look at this lining here." She pointed at the edge of the opening where there was a thin light grey lining that was hardly visible unless one was at a certain angle to see light reflect off it, which Draco had noticed. "It's man-made!"

Then she turned and inspected the other side. "There's no lining on this side. How very, very strange!"

"Worth a shot," muttered Draco, and he entered the tunnel – sideways.

The whole place was dark and pressing in on them; Hermione felt a little claustrophobic as she squeezed through after Draco. The air became quite stale, and Hermione found herself gasping along the way. She could hear the wheezes coming from Draco as well as he shifted himself along quickly.

The tunnel seemed to be never-ending, and its darkness shrouded over both of them like a heavy curtain. Draco was now a little distance ahead of her; she could feel that he was no longer ahead of her, or rather beside, considering that she was walking like a crab now. After a while, the claustrophobia was settling in full force, and she could feel her legs wobble. Blindly, her left hand reached out to grab; she grabbed air.

"Dra - Malfoy, where are you?" Her voice was now shaking.

"You-you-you..." The echo down the tunnel sent chills down her spine.

"Draco Malfoy!" Hermione now shouted, wincing as she edged past a particular narrow bit.

"Oy-oy-oy..."

"DRACO!"

Hermione stopped moving, her eyes wide with terror. But then she leaned towards her left, and strained to hear something that seemed to be echoing back to her. It was too faint for her to make words out of it, so she tried to move faster – and faster...

"Can – you – hear – me? I – am – down ..."

"You're underground?" Hermione panicked, and her foot began to edge further than her arm, to try to source out any possible openings in the ground.

"Gran – ge... ARRRGHHHHH!"

"DRACO!" The piercing yell frightened Hermione immensely, and she tried her best to squeeze through the rest of the tunnel, waving her left arm and leg about wildly to try to sense any openings. "Draco, talk to me, where are you?"

There was complete silence after the ensuing echo of 'you-ou-ou!', and that scared her more than anything else.

Suddenly, Hermione stopped in her tracks. Then she raised her right arm over her head, with her wand firmly grasped in her hand. She tried to cast light, but there seemed to be a gray mist all around that prevented her from seeing ahead. Finally, she tried a new spell she had picked up by herself in one of the library books on charms. A little silver ball formed at the end of her wand, and then it leapt off into the darkness.

The tinkling sound of the ball vanished not too far away, and she estimated that the opening in the ground was relatively near. Not sure whether to feel relieved or still terribly worried as to what had happened to Draco Malfoy, she inched closer.

To her surprise, the walls started to get further and further away; the passageway was getting wider and wider. And it was no surprise that since that happened, Draco must have been too carried away looking at the walls not to see that the ground in front of him was too smooth and dry to be natural – compared to the uneven and damp cave ground earlier.

"Draco?" Hermione called out, staring at the perfectly smooth piece of ground in front of her.

There was silence again. She conjured up another silver ball and dropped it. The ball disappeared upon contact with the ground; specifically, it dropped right through the ground.

"Draco!"

There was still no reply. Fearing the worst, Hermione pointed her wand at the ground and screamed,

"_EXPULSO!_"

There was a huge burst of light and sound, and Hermione dove to a corner as the ground blew apart, showering debris all over her.

When the vibrations had stopped, and the air was less dusty, Hermione opened her eyes to see a hole in the ground, decorated with cracks along the sides. There was some kind of light coming from within, a dull orange.

Crawling over, she peered into the hole, and saw that right below was the uneven cave ground. But a little to the right, she noticed a cauldron with bright orange light glowing from it. Her conjured silver ball was just at the bottom of it.

Bracing herself, she leapt into the hole.

"Oof!" She winced as she landed hard on her two feet, sharp pain shooting up her knees and ankles. Her eyes still trained on the cauldron, she took a step towards it, wincing again as her ankle made a rather awkward creaking noise.

Then she halted, and turned around.

There on the ground, was Draco Malfoy, lying spreadeagled on the floor, his eyes closed.

"DRACO!" shrieked Hermione, not caring where she was anymore. Ignoring the pain in her legs, she dashed across and knelt down in front of the motionless blond boy, shaking him hard. Her heart was beating so fast she could barely feel it anymore, and all she could see now was Draco Malfoy lying there unmoving, his wand a distance away from his outstretched arm. She quickly glanced around to see if it had been a Death Eater who had done this to him, but there was no one in sight in this room. Not caring anymore, she looked back at him, and felt herself choke.

"_Ennervate! Ennervate!_" She desperately waved her wand over him.

To her utter relief, she saw his eyes flutter open, and he let out a groan as he tried to move.

"You're – here?" he croaked, as he grimaced while trying to sit up. Hermione quickly helped him, although the tears were streaming fast and furiously down her face. She choked again as he reached out to grab his wand, then once he was in a sitting position, he rubbed his eyes and stared at her.

"Bloody hell Granger, why are you always weeping?" He scowled, disgusted. "You cried when I called you Mudblood, when Wentervale died, when I said let's move on, and now you're crying again – and for what reason?"

Hermione couldn't believe that he was accusing her of being a crybaby (or so that seemed to be what he implied). "You bastard, I thought you were DEAD!" she screamed, enraged, and even more so when she realised she couldn't stop crying as she yelled at him. "I thought some Death Eater was waiting here for you so that he or she could blast you into oblivion, I thought you were dead, dead, DEAD!"

Before an astonished Draco could say anything, she continued ranting, "You ungrateful Slytherin, you just kept going on and on and didn't even look back to see whether I was there, so maybe you don't care that I'm dead or not – I don't even know why I care about someone who calls me a M-Mudblood!"

She tried to brush the streaming tears off, but in her fury, she ended up tearing even more. Draco stared at her in bewilderment, not knowing what to make out of this situation. He had made girls cry before, but definitely not for the reason that Hermione Granger was now crying for. So she had been crying because she thought he had died. But he had merely slipped and fell into this – well, as he looked around, he noticed that it was a room.

A _man-made_ room.

But before he could explore, he had to deal with Hermione Granger.

Feeling rather awkward, he maintained his scowl as he looked at her. "I'm alright, Granger. Look at me! I heard you call, so I answered, then I just fell down, that's all! And then just when I'm standing here hoping that you might fall in so I should get ready to catch you, there's this huge explosion and then..."

He realised he was rambling, and flushed angrily. Hermione sniffed and wiped her tears with her arm once again before looking straight at him. "You were waiting here to catch me?"

Draco didn't feel like repeating that, so he just rolled his eyes. The truth was, he wasn't used to somebody from school being so concerned about him, much less somebody like Granger – from a rival House and a Mud – well, a _Muggle-born_ to boot. And the way she was crying so badly because she thought he would be gone unsettled him quite a bit.

Then again, the way she was unconscious when he met Wentervale had made him panic as well.

"Come on," he said, gruffly, standing up and holding a hand out to her. "Let's go look at that cauldron. This place isn't part of the natural caves for sure."

Hermione stared at his outstretched hand, and then with a final sniff, she held onto it and pulled herself up.

When she did stand up, she found herself face to face with Draco Malfoy – with very little distance between them. And then once again, she found herself drawn to those eyes of his. Even when both of them were swathed in the orange light from the cauldron, and the gray in his eyes was no longer the shade she remembered it for, it was not for the first time did she notice that he no longer had the arrogant, condescending look in his eyes when he looked at her. Gone was the iciness, instead, there was a certain dullness to his eyes, that made her heart ache as she stared at him. It was a tinge of sadness clouding over his entire face.

Draco stared back at Hermione as he held onto her hand. The soft brown eyes were red and puffy once again from crying, and there were tear streaks down her cheeks as she shuddered one more time with a hiccup. She closed her eyes to swallow hard, and he watched as her eyes fluttered shut. Something caught in his throat as he looked at her face. A face that he had come to recognise as a Muggle-born. A face that he had come to recognise would appear right beside the face of Harry Potter wherever he was walking, if it was not Ron Weasley.

But it was also a face that he had come to recognise as somebody who cared. For him.

Awkwardly, he reached out with his thumb to brush away the tear streaks on her face. Startled by the contact, Hermione's eyes flew open. But all she saw was the same sad expression on his face. His eyebrows were furrowed together, and he looked like he was in pain and frustration all at once.

Every nerve in her body tingled, as he reached out with his other thumb to brush the other side of her face. His eyes were staring at his thumb, then finally, his gaze settled back on her eyes. She felt her breath catch in her throat, and there was a fire burning in her.

Then suddenly, he had pushed her away, and the electricity between them fizzled out instantly. He looked away, and she found herself too embarrassed and awkward to look at him either, so she spun around to stare at the cauldron. But the swift movement took a final toll on her ankle, which she forgot to heal, and she groaned with the pain.

Draco turned to look at her bending down to ease the pain in her ankles.

"You're a witch, if you forgot," he muttered, and whipped out his own wand to heal the pain. Hermione stopped massaging her ankle, and threw him a grateful look as she straightened up. Draco decided to look elsewhere again.

"The cauldron," she managed to say, and Draco's mind immediately focused back onto the sole item in the room. There wasn't even a door around, he noticed, just four man-made cave walls, cave ground, and that bloody cauldron in the middle of the room.

Both of them inched towards the cauldron, staring warily at the orange light from it.

"It's not a Portkey, is it?" asked Hermione, nervously.

Draco decided to summon up his courage, and he walked over to it. Then he stared at the bubbling orange liquid inside. The heat and light from it was burning his face, so he stepped back again. "Get your hand near it. When I count to three, we grab hold of it. Just in case it is a Portkey."

Hermione frowned, but she obeyed him and stepped forward, her hand outstretched.

"One..."

She steeled herself for the lurching in her stomach. This reminded her of when Dumbledore asked them to place their hands on his arm in his office. It seemed like it had been a long time ago.

Where was Dumbledore?

"Two..."

Funny enough, her stomach was already lurching before any kind of teleportation. She closed her eyes tightly and braced herself for Draco's command.

"THREE!"

Hermione cringed as much as she could to hopefully alleviate the crunching in her stomach.

Or at least, what she had expected.

She opened her eyes in confusion, and saw Draco's eyes half-open and staring at the cauldron in front of them, his face illuminated a fiery orange.

"Clearly, it is not a Portkey," remarked Draco, in an annoyed tone.

"Well, you thought so too! Besides, it was a precaution!" Hermione snapped. Then she peered over the cauldron and its bubbling liquid. Frowning again, she walked the perimeter of the room slowly. Draco watched her as she traced the walls with her fingers, the way she did when she fingered the entrance of the narrow passageway they had squeezed through. When she was satisfied that she had covered all ground, she returned to her original position beside the cauldron and shook her head.

"There's no way out!" Her frustration was evident, and her bushy hair seemed even frizzier than ever. Draco's face twitched as he continued watching her grumble under her breath and stare at the liquid.

"I'm assuming we have to add something to this cauldron or say some incantations," Hermione said, at last, looking at Draco with an air of resignation. "Not that I know what."

"Know-it-all Hermione Granger has come to a dead end, alas!" Draco declared dramatically, causing Hermione to glare at him. "No points for Gryffindor!"

"And none for Slytherin, seeing as you are not offering anything constructive!" Hermione pursed up her lips.

Draco matched her glare, and then bent down to examine the cauldron. It was a normal pewter cauldron, the kind that all students had to buy for their Potions class in first year, nothing special. Surely this must be the way to find the Horcrux hidden in these caves; if not, why would there be a cauldron out of nowhere, and why would someone bother to cast a magic net above that would disguise the entrance to this room as part of the cave floor?

"Look here!" Hermione exclaimed suddenly, from the other side of the cauldron.

Draco sidled over, and saw her finger pointing at the bottom of the cauldron. An intricate mass of carvings were visible.

"It says '_Innervo_' and that looks like a stick pointing to a really small Dark Mark," muttered Hermione, peering hard at it.

"_Innervo_?" Draco looked puzzled. "That sounds like a spell."

"I can't believe I haven't heard of it!" wailed Hermione.

Draco rolled his eyes, and then stared back at the carvings again.

A stick? It looked rather like a...

Then it hit him.

The day the Dark Lord officially made him a Death Eater, he had watched as all the senior Death Eaters – or at least, those who were still alive and loyal – gather round in two lines in front of the Dark Lord, forming a large aisle that Draco walked up to the middle and knelt down. He had kept his head down, but he could hear mutterings from all around, and then the Dark Lord asked him to raise his head. He saw orange light glowing from all the arms of the Death Eaters – their sleeves all rolled up, and their wands pressed to the Dark Mark, emitting an eerie orange glow that shot up to the sky. Then slowly, the Dark Lord raised his hands, and the orange lights all bent towards him.

With a push, the orange light blasted forwards and knocked Draco square in the face.

He remembered that he had yelled out in pain.

Then the Dark Lord was speaking.

_Who are you, and why are you here?_

The beginning of the initiation ritual.

_I am Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy, and I pledge myself to the service of the Dark Lord with the undertaking of my late father's responsibility as your humble servant. I will fulfill my duties to the best of my abilities, and I will serve the Dark Lord with unwavering loyalty, and – a stone cold heart._

Draco felt himself involuntarily shudder when he felt the last few words come back to him.

"What is it?" Hermione couldn't hide her excitement when she noticed some flicker of recognition in his eyes as he gazed at the carvings. Slowly, Draco stood up, and Hermione followed suit. Then he pulled out his wand.

Hermione's expression slowly morphed into that of horror. "What are you doing?"

"Only a Death Eater can enter," said Draco, stonily. "It's a spell the Dark Lord created."

"I'll hold onto you," said Hermione, instantly.

Draco didn't like that idea, but Hermione looked so fierce and defiant that he relented. She held onto his left arm as he placed his wand onto his right arm. Then he closed his eyes and muttered,

"_Innervo_."

Suddenly, there was an invisible force that blast Hermione backwards, pulling her away from Draco, and she was hurled straight into the wall. Then, a sudden numbness overtook her as she fell flat on her face onto the cold stone ground. Groaning, she tried to lift herself up, but she could barely feel her limbs with the impact.

But even as she lay on the floor, she was sure of one thing.

Draco Malfoy was no longer around.

"D-Draco!" she screamed, and tried her best to roll herself over.

Seeing the cauldron upside down, and the carvings glowing in orange, her heart thudded crazily.

"DRACO MALFOY!"

He was gone. The spell had only permitted him to enter.

This was the second time that she had lost him. She could feel panic pump through her body.

_This is different._ Now they were separated, in the depths of a cave in Ukraine. And there was no other way out of this room.

Hermione felt petrified, but she tried her best to think of Harry and his courage, and Ron and his impeccable comic timing, and then took a deep breath. Slowly, she felt the blood ease back into her limbs, and as the pain overtook her, she groaned.

Now what should she do?

-.-.-.-.-.-

The next second Draco opened his eyes, he saw that he was still standing in the cave room.

But now, in the wall, there was a huge doorway.

He suddenly realised the icy cold fingers of Hermione Granger that had gripped his left arm was no longer there. Spinning around, he saw that she had been slammed against the wall, and was now moaning on the floor.

"D-Draco!" He heard her scream.

"I'm here!" he yelled, but she didn't seem to hear.

Her eyes rolled upwards to meet his, but they swivelled away again towards the cauldron, a wild look in them.

"DRACO MALFOY!"

The way she shouted his name was so full of fear and pain, that he tried to run towards her. But there seemed to be a force field of some kind, because he found himself knocking into an invisible barrier that shone blue when he came into contact with it. He tried to ram into it, but it only grew blue again and sent him rebounding.

She couldn't see him or hear him. The powerful magic that the spell had evoked had created a boundary that he could not overstep.

_I think I have overstepped many boundaries in the span of one night._

Was one night over? Was it daybreak already?

But that was inconsequential.

Staring helplessly at her trying to get up, and the way she looked around for him desperately, but couldn't see him, made him feel very uncomfortable and unhappy.

_Unhappy? Why am I unhappy?_

But this meant that they were separated. And there was no way out for Hermione Granger.

It could only mean that he had to venture to find this Horcrux on his own.

_It's only the third one we know of, and I have no bloody idea what's awaiting me!_

But what about her?

He watched as she clambered up and tried to trace the walls with her fingers again, limping as she did.

He felt cruel as he turned his back on her, and then walked up to the doorway. When he stepped within a metre of it, the door began to creak open inwards.

Adrenaline was coursing through his veins; at the same time, fear was overtaking him completely. Somehow, the presence and consciousness of Hermione Granger always made him want to assume courage, but now his courage failed him. He felt himself shaking as the door opened further.

"Hermione..." He couldn't control himself; he sounded like he was whimpering. He wanted to give himself a mental slap for being weak. For wanting her to be right beside him as he made to walk through the doorway. It was dark ahead. He pulled out his wand, his hand shaking uncontrollably.

At the same time, he thought he heard her call his name.

"Draco, where are you...?"

It was heartrending, hearing her voice echo round the room. But he blocked his ears, shut his eyes, and steeled his nerves. The stinging of the Dark Mark on his arm reminded him of the identity he was supposed to have assumed. The mind that he had to compartmentalise. The image of his father floated back into his mind, and he gripped his wand tighter than ever.

Then he walked through the doorway.


	22. Dead Ends?

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter is the brainchild of Ms Rowling, and I am merely leveraging on the magnificent universe she created to spin off a story of my own about two characters she'd never dream of putting together. Even though they're really good together. I mean. Yeah.

**A/N:** Here's another chapter with the tension mounting! This chapter is a lot more serious, no witty banter or whatsoever, but I promise you an even more exciting chapter after this. Maybe something that you guys'd really really like ;) Meanwhile, enjoy this one (:

* * *

Even though Draco had prepared himself for more illusions, given all the various eye-boggling magic that had been put in place so far, nothing really prepared him for what was now right in front of him.

He had entered a room that far exceeded the Malfoy Manor in luxury and grandeur; there were silvery columns lining the beautifully tiled floor, and there were dark statues of all kinds of creatures along the floor as well – snakes, manticores, chimaeras, basilisks – all the various Dark creatures that were often mentioned in folklore but never seen face-to-face. Draco hoped he would never have to face any, especially after he had duelled a dragon.

Not that the dragon was really out to kill him anyway.

The Dark Lord really has a taste for grand things, noted Draco. The basin that had held the Horcrux in the first cave had been carved beautifully, he remembered noticing. Not that he knew how the diary of Tom Riddle looked like; maybe it had gilded pages too. Then there was the ornate ring that the Dark Lord wore before that Wentervale mentioned.

Another random thought shot through his mind: if the Dark Lord had made it such that only a Death Eater could come, surely he would be alerted to the fact that Draco was here now.

A realisation suddenly hit Draco so hard that he stopped abruptly in his tracks. There was no turning back now.

He had made his decision. All along, this had been his decision, and there was no turning back at all. If he made the wrong move, the Dark Lord would be here instantly, and he would be dead.

"_This is your mission as much as it was his..._" Hermione Granger's voice floated back into his mind.

It was hers as well.

That chilling fact unsettled him incredibly. He clutched at his robes, breathed hard, and then moved on slowly.

His footsteps sounded like horse hooves clopping against the immaculately-polished tiles. Draco felt extremely edgy walking down the pathway. He half expected the stone creatures to suddenly come alive and pounce onto him, mauling him to death.

That thought certainly wasn't very pretty.

When he had reached the end of the row of columns, there was a long flight of steps down to a lower platform. On that platform was a half-column rising up from the middle.

And on top of that column was a beautiful cup.

The amount of jewels on it must have been aplenty, considering the glaring shine coming from it. Draco stared at it, blinking hard to make sure he was seeing the right thing.

Was this – the Horcrux?

The one that he had been searching for?

Or rather, the Horcrux that Wentervale, he – and Hermione Granger had been searching for?

_The Dark Lord really has a penchant for such things! I wonder..._

He put a tentative foot down the first step.

"My, my, my, look who we have here?"

Draco whipped around, but saw no one behind him. Turning back to the front, the familiar figure of a greasy-haired man was now standing in front of the shining cup. Rather disconcertingly, he had a cheerful smile on his face as he raised his hands up in a mock welcome.

"Augustus Rookwood!" spat Draco, his eyes narrowing at the man.

"Ah Draco, welcome welcome. I have been expecting you," said Rookwood, and he spread his arms wide. "Or rather..." His smile deepened. "The Dark Lord has been expecting you."

A chill ran down Draco's spine. But at the same time, he registered that Rookwood was the third Death-Eater that the Dark Lord had revealed secrets to. That just left one more person he didn't know. Could it be Antonin Dolohov? Or the Lestranges? Or Yaxley?

"You are skilled at Occlumency, aren't you, Draco?" said Rookwood, as he began to circle the column, his eyes now fixed on the golden cup above. "The Dark Lord told me to keep an eye on his Horcrux, lest somebody came to meddle with it..."

Draco remained silent. So the Dark Lord had suspected him right from the start. Why then, was he allowed to understand so much about the Horcruxes? Why was he allowed to meet Wentervale and find out the truth? Or did the Dark Lord plan this such that he would die knowing everything but not being able to do anything? His blood ran cold.

"Wentervale led you here, didn't he?" croaked Rookwood, laughing mirthlessly thereafter. "Oh what a silly boy, how could you ever have listened to a dying man?"

"I listened to my father!" Draco burst out in rage, glaring furiously at Rookwood, who merely laughed again. If not for the content of their conversation, Augustus Rookwood looked like he was having a hearty laugh over a joke. Well, maybe he did think that was a joke. Treating Lucius Malfoy like a joke made Draco even more outraged. He privately wondered whether the Dark Lord had murdered his father in front of the other Death Eaters to serve as an example.

He cringed at that thought. It was too revolting and painful to think about such a scenario.

"I heard it was Albus Dumbledore who managed to lead you to the first step though, how exciting," mused Rookwood. "If I didn't hear wrongly on the day you were initiated, the Dark Lord asked you to murder him as your first mission?"

_How did he know about Dumbledore?_ Draco eyed Rookwood coldly.

"Ah... what a little traitor you are, aren't you?" Rookwood continued, his eyes glinting. "Aren't you afraid of death? Or rather, the torture that the Dark Lord is so famed for? Are you so noble to sacrifice your life to him without actually completing any task for him? Oh you wretched little fool..."

There was a hint of anger in Rookwood's voice, and Draco was inwardly surprised. At the same time, he noted that Rookwood was getting a bit agitated and rambly. The word 'sacrifice' made him think of Wentervale's words, and he wondered if Rookwood had been following them all this while. That would explain how he knew about Dumbledore. Maybe he was sent here to keep an eye on Wentervale as well. The Dark Lord would know if somebody was on the hunt for his Horcruxes.

But in that case, why was Wentervale allowed to construct a Teleporting Veil? Did the Dark Lord think that because he was going to die, he was not a threat anymore? Was it really that? Draco was beginning to find things a little more fishy than he thought.

Rookwood stopped circling the cup, and then he gazed back at Draco, with a curled lip in place.

"Such a watertight mind you have there." He cocked his head a little to the side. "Maybe if I tell you about the night your father was so brutally murdered in front of our very eyes by the Dark Lord, the details, perhaps..."

Draco was having a hard time controlling his temper. He suddenly really wished Hermione Granger was there to put her hand on his arm and calm him down and talk to Rookwood for him, for he was quite sure he was not in the right temperament to negotiate with the Death Eater. Especially when he was bringing up his father. He knew Rookwood was doing this on purpose, but it was tiring trying to practise Occlumency and suppress his rage at the same time.

Then he realised to his horror, that the pouch which contained the basilisk fang, was with Hermione and not with him. A wave of disappointment overcame him, and he felt his shoulders sag.

"Still not responding, are you, Malfoy Junior? Surely you want to take revenge on the Dark Lord, surely? That is why you are here?"

Something in Rookwood's tone really bothered Draco.

"I think – " paused Draco, eyeing Rookwood with a glint in his eye. "It is actually why _you_ are here, is that not so?"

Rookwood merely laughed. "What are you talking about, my boy? Are you saying that I want to take revenge on the Dark Lord?"

"Yes."

Rookwood tilted his head to the other side. "Fascinating child. What makes you think so?"

"The fact that you are still questioning me instead of just hauling me straight to the Dark Lord or setting the Cruciatus on me," said Draco, shortly. "You want something out of me."

Augustus Rookwood wasn't one of the most experienced Death-Eaters for nothing. He gave away nothing at all, but merely laughed again, the eerily affable laughter. Then he waved his hand around the cup that was placed aloft on the pedestal, and muttered something.

To Draco's immense horror, something wispy began to spiral out of the cup. At first, he thought that the cup was smoking, but lo and behold, the wisps of 'smoke' were starting to merge together to form a rather translucent looking entity. Slowly, as the wisps headed towards the floor, the translucency began to solidify, and faint monochrome colours began to seep into the figure. Draco watched in a mix of fascination and shock as he began to recognise the features of this young man that was forming before him. The memory of a fat but relatively young Slughorn facing off with the greasy-haired and pale student was flitting through his mind, and he saw the latter right in front of him now, albeit slightly older, with a wearier and bonier look.

"Tom Riddle..." whispered Draco, and the figure solidified enough to give a low chuckle. A low, sinister chuckle.

"Who is this, Augustus?" asked the ghostly figure of Tom, with a hint of arrogance. The sly grin on his face reminded Draco of himself, rather chillingly, and nothing of the cold, hard, snake-like image he recognised to be the Dark Lord.

"This is the son of Lucius," Augustus Rookwood replied, still disconcertingly cheerful. "Draco Malfoy."

Tom raised his eyebrows at Draco. "Oh? Why is it that you have managed to make your way here to look for me?"

Curiosity was battling with fear and anger within Draco. "How – how did you find this place to put the Horcrux?" He chided himself inwardly for sounding so pathetic. "All the way in Ukraine?"

Tom spread out his arms. "Do I have to report to you, Draco? Who are you?" A sneer was entering his voice. "Who are you to me?" He began to walk up the steps as if he were human. Draco made no move to back off, merely glaring at the soul fragment of Tom Riddle. "And why are you here?"

"Why don't you ask beloved Augustus Rookwood that?" Draco replied, suddenly feeling rather bold.

Rookwood stared at him in surprise, and Tom Riddle cocked an eyebrow. "Whatever for?"

"Ask him why he is here."

"He is my Secret-Keeper for this place." Tom sounded rather annoyed at being asked a foolish question. "He will come here from time to time to make sure it is safe. From people like you."

Then he swivelled round to meet Rookwood's eyes. "Why is the boy here, Augustus?"

"He wants to destroy you," said Rookwood promptly, smirking at Draco when he said.

In a split second, Tom Riddle's piercing gaze was back on Draco, a very firm sneer etched onto his pale and haggard face.

"Destroy me?" Tom barked out a harsh laughter. "You want to destroy _me_?"

"I am a Death Eater!" snapped Draco. But at that moment, he knew.

It was over. All over.

"Oh, you are? But one never knows what will happen, will he?" Tom mused, looking thoughtful. "You see, I am pretty sure I can tell when somebody is loyal to me, and when he isn't."

Draco's eyes flashed as Wentervale came into his mind; he tried to shut it out when the image came through. He turned to glare at Rookwood, who merely chuckled.

"Just like your father."

Rage consumed Draco as he narrowed his eyes into slits at the apparition before him, gritting his teeth till he could feel the enamel grating off. Tom Riddle seemed to look smug knowing that he had hit a raw nerve in Draco.

"Aunt Bellatrix hasn't really taught you Occlumency well, has she?" Rookwood's voice had adopted a singsong manner. "All the rage is oozing out into your face already, Draco, even a fool could tell how angry you are!"

That clearly didn't help Draco calm down at all. He lowered his head, allowing the platinum blond fringe to flop over his eyes. Looking at Rookwood only served to intensify his fury, let alone looking at his father's murderer in the eye, even if he was just a soul fragment. The mention of an Occlumency mentor made him wince inwardly; what would happen to Snape if Draco was caught? Surely they would find out that Snape...

"So, how would you like your death to be, Draco?" asked Tom, an amused look spreading over his pale face. "I think immediately subjecting you to _Avada Kedavra_ might be a little bit too nice for you. Shall I Cruciate you first, before embarking on a series of hexes and jinxes that might warm your body up a little?"

-.-.-.-.-.-

"So," said Harry, slowly. "Am I right to say that there are now two Horcruxes destroyed, and there remains five, out of which you know the location of only one?"

"Yes, that would be quite succinctly put, Harry," replied Dumbledore, thoughtfully fingering his beard. "But as of now, I have decided to destroy the one that I know the location of."

"Didn't you say you sent Hermione and that ferret there?" demanded Ron, who still couldn't get over the fact that Hermione was stuck with the Slytherin.

"That particular Horcrux is guarded by very dangerous magic, magic that I do not believe that either Draco or Hermione has the ability to deal with it. My purpose of sending them beyond the one that we have found, is to find out the location of the others from Wentervale – at least, I feel rather certain that he is likely to know more than one secret. This letter Hermione left behind proves even more so, for I believe it was a clue Lucius Malfoy left to his son, and there seems to be this 'labyrinth of secrets' which we have yet to decipher."

"What magic is it?" asked Lupin, the worried expression still etched into his face. He suddenly looked rather old and haggard, thought Harry, as he stared at his former professor. Tonks walked up to him and placed a tentative hand on his back, as if to steady him.

"The Inferi," said Dumbledore, simply.

There was probably no lack of gasps in the office for today. Arthur Weasley looked positively stricken, and Molly had her hand clapped to her mouth. Ron, Ginny, Corrinne and Neville had turned white, but Harry looked rather blank. When Lupin saw his expression, he explained the Inferi to Harry, causing the bespectacled boy to cringe. "O-okay..."

Dumbledore looked at the Order grimly. "I called upon all of you to aid me in protecting the duo I've sent out. I am rather sure that both Draco and Hermione have met with Wentervale, for where I've sent them – there was a chasm with a sleeping dragon in it."

"Dragon?" Neville let out a gasp, but Dumbledore put out a hand to stop him.

"The chasm is the only possible exit from the place the Horcrux is kept, especially when one alerts the Inferi," continued Dumbledore. "I have seen Wentervale attempting to destroy the Horcrux, but he always fell short of dealing with the Inferi because of his illness. It is to my understanding that the Horcrux is being submerged in a basin of cursed water, and attempts to siphon it do not work. One must drink it, and Wentervale's body will not be able to withstand the curse. When he escaped from the Inferi, I was puzzled as to where he would go, and tailed him after the Inferi had crept back into the waters."

"When I saw the sleeping dragon there, I felt as though he could not have been devoured by this creature. Severus, however, has alerted me to the fact that Wentervale has a secret half-sister whose identity has been kept steady for ages. This is a secret that all of you must keep safe, for any leakage would mean instant death for the half-sister as well. And I can only tell you so much to protect Severus as well."

There was a snort, presumably coming from the Weasleys, but Dumbledore smiled gently and continued.

"I have managed to coax it out of the sister, that Wentervale is in fact, a dragon Animagus."

"That means he is an _Advanced_ one!" Tonks' eyes widened, her hair prickling and swirling in various shades between brown and pink.

"Exactly. Hence, I believe that since Wentervale is looking for Draco, he is unlikely to harm him. The dragon guise is likely to deter He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named from attempting to kill him. Therefore, my conclusion is that it is likely that both Draco and Hermione have met Wentervale before his death."

"What I want us to do is to follow the trail. Once they have found out enough, it is enough, the rest of the work is not for them both alone. There is not much time left and we must hurry. Something tells me danger is approaching very soon."

"It has already approached!" grumbled Ron, but Lupin had stepped forward, a very serious and dark expression on his face.

"We are ready, Albus. But we cannot let the children go."

"It's Hermione we're talking about!" cried Harry, hotly. "I'm not going to let you all go save her without at least me and Ron – and Ginny coming along!"

"Hey! What about us?" Corrinne added in protest, and Neville winced while Luna merely looked blank.

Lupin looked at all of them sternly. Harry remained defiant.

Dumbledore cocked his head with a slightly amused look. "I don't suppose we can do much, Remus. But I will keep them close." Turning to Harry, he adopted a more serious look. "All of you must obey my instructions, along with the Order's."

A faraway look then came onto his face. "There is no room for heroes."

Harry steeled his resolve and nodded at Dumbledore. "We will listen to you, sir."

"Arthur, Molly, Bill – I would like you to stay in the Burrow and await instructions. Should we meet danger, you must seek help immediately."

Molly opened her mouth to say something, but Arthur immediately assented, causing her to shut it rather angrily. Then, Bill led his parents towards the fireplace, and Arthur threw a handful of Floo Powder, creating a cloud of roaring green flames.

"Charlie, you must remain with the dragon colonies should we need assistance from those creatures."

With a _crack_, Charlie had Disapparated from Dumbledore's office.

"The rest of you, apart from Lupin, Tonks and Mad-Eye, I would like you to remain in your various positions. We may be crossing certain borders for all we know, and it is highly critical to have eyes to watch us. Minerva, I will have to beseech you to stand in for me during this period. Please inform the relevant staff members of their students' absence."

One by one, the rest of the group Disapparated. Minerva McGonagall tutted a little, before she turned and walked out of the door.

Finally, there was only Dumbledore, Lupin, Tonks, Mad-Eye Moody, Harry, Ron, Ginny, Luna, Neville, and Corrinne standing around in the office.

Dumbledore motioned for Fawkes to land on his arm. "Everybody link arms. Make sure it's a tight link."

Harry watched as the brilliant plume of the phoenix swept through the air and landed gracefully on Dumbledore's left arm. As he linked arms with Ron and Ginny, an image of Hermione desperately navigating through darkness and emptiness, crying for help, waded through his mind. He winced, and lowered his head.

_Please, please let her be alright!_

-.-.-.-.-.-

Hermione stopped tracing the walls, her entire body deflated as she sank down near the cauldron. She stared at the orange glow helplessly, and then the small carvings at the bottom of the cauldron.

"Draco... where are you..." she whispered faintly.

Her entire body wracked with anxiety, she clambered back onto her feet again, and resumed scanning the room. Then she peered back into the cauldron.

"I don't understand why it's a cauldron if all one needs is to utter the incantations at the bottom to get in," mused Hermione, to herself. "Is it really a ruse to trick people into thinking a potion is needed? Really?"

She circled the cauldron once, then twice.

Then a thought struck her.

She took out the basilisk fang from the pouch Wentervale had given her. The edge of it was stained with a bit of blood, and she shuddered a little.

"Horcruxes can only be destroyed by the most powerful of magic..." She fingered the fang. "Most powerful of magic..."

She couldn't possibly throw the fang in; it was the only one they had to destroy the remaining Horcruxes – or at least, she hadn't the faintest idea what else would be so potent as to do the job.

_They._ The thought of Draco Malfoy made her panic again. She had to breathe hard to steady herself. _Hermione Granger!_ She thought sternly._You need to be calm and rational and at the same time, think out of the box!_

She wrinkled up her nose when that thought came to mind. _That really is helpful._

With her hand placed just above the cauldron, her instinctive reaction was to dip the fang into the swirling and bubbling orange liquid. Then she began to move her hand in large circles, stirring the liquid, as if the fang were a large spoon.

At first, the bubbles were popping occasionally. The more Hermione stirred, the more bubbles appeared, and eventually, all the bubbles seemed to merge into some kind of white froth covering the orange liquid. As the froth accumulated, the orange glow dimmed, and in its place, a pure, white, light shone through the froth. Hermione stared wonderingly at the contents of the cauldron as she stirred methodically.

All of a sudden, the bubbling started to become wilder. The froth began to accumulate at such a rate that it was about to overflow any minute. Startled, Hermione jerked back, fang in hand, but whatever 'damage' it seemed she had done – was done. The edges of the cauldron were soon covered by a sheet of froth, and then everything started to boil over. Hermione kept backing off, and off, and off, as the frothy bubbles started to pool onto the floor in large amounts. Those in the cauldron just kept growing bigger and bigger, and it looked like there was going to be a monstrous tidal wave of froth.

Hermione brandished her wand, her hand shaking. But with every charm and spell she cast to make the froth disappear or to return back into the cauldron, it seemed to only make the froth accumulate even more and bubble more furiously. The speed at which the floor was becoming flooded with white frothy liquid was so fast that Hermione found herself soon back up against the wall at the end of the room, staring in horror at the now-white cauldron at the far end.

_I'm a Gryffindor!_ She had to recite that phrase over and over again in her head.

It was when she was stock still, pressed against the wall, with the froth started to pool around her legs, that she suddenly realised that her surroundings were starting to change.

She tried walking forwards a little, wading in the bubbles, but the surroundings were still literally peeling away – the walls of the room were giving way to a dark place; the bright white light that was illuminating the room from the cauldron before was now moving further and further away, pushing her into the darkness. She felt herself being swallowed up by the black surroundings, as the brightness slowly faded towards the front. Then instantly, the last of the room she had been in snapped right into the centre of her vision, shooting into a small round ball, and then it was no more.

Hermione looked around her, but could barely see anything. Instinctively, she held her empty hand out to touch. She was in a narrow passageway, and there seemed to be steps, as her foot nudged against one of them. She could barely see anything, so she flicked her wand, and light shone from its tip to reveal a very narrow stairway. Tentatively, she began to ascend the steps. Then she stopped. Then she looked behind her.

_Up or down?_ She wondered, staring back and forth. In the end, intuition told her to try going upwards, since she was already in the depths of a cave. Bravely, she continued her ascent of the steps. At the same time, she slipped the basilisk fang back into the pouch at her side.

Instantly, she was remembered of Wentervale's passing, and then Draco's disappearance. She felt something tug at her chest, and she stopped to take a deep breath before continuing. Things were not looking very bright, even though she seemed to have found a way out of that room with no exit.

She came to a platform, where there was a door. The stairway continued to lead upwards, but it seemed to get more damp and grimy. That proved to be rather odd, considering that it was often the deeper one went into a cave that there were such conditions. Hesitating, she looked at the door and pointed her wand at it. A door often meant hope, so she could only pray that it really would give her some hope. It was already strange enough that there should be a stone room, a cauldron, and a stairway in the midst of a natural cave in West Ukraine, let alone now a door that was likely to lead to another passageway.

"_Alohomora!_" she whispered, and the door swung open with nary a creak.

Hermione decided to give it a shot, and she made it through the entrance. Suddenly, with a loud bang, the door slammed shut behind her. She spun around, terrified, but there was a click, and it seemed to indicate that she was locked within. She flicked her wand, but the door remained shut.

_Okay, so was that a good idea?_ She didn't know. The only way now was to venture forward.

To her surprise, the passageway was actually relatively well-lit by fire sticks burning on the walls, so now she could extinguish the light at the tip of her wand. But she still kept it tight in her grip as she slowly walked on. The whole place looked like a medieval dungeon, and it felt rather sinister. For the umpteenth time, Hermione really wished she could use some of Ron's deadpan humour and Harry's reckless courage. She felt like a balloon that was deflating with each step she took, and could be so easily burst with a little prick.

And maybe, some of Draco's witty sarcasm.

"What joy," she muttered to herself.

The passageway seemed never-ending, and she was beginning to feel very cold. In fact, she touched her own arm and felt as if it was covered in tiny icicles. She breathed out a puff of breath and saw it materialise into a cloud. Shivering, she moved on, but felt her legs become as heavy as iron blocks. Somehow, every movement felt agonising now, and she could also feel all happiness seep out of her.

The feeling was reminiscent of something. It was like deja vu. She couldn't really put her finger to it though. Not that she could even curl any of her fingers now.

But it was only when she managed to plow on a few more steps, that she realised what had happened. Or rather, who was here. She stopped abruptly, staring in horror at what was before her.

Floating towards her, was the familiar shadow that seemed to draw her towards it, and yet repel her with all the misery and despair and darkness it held.

"Dementor..." she whispered, not believing her eyes. A Dementor, in the depths of this Optimistic-whatever-place. Was fate playing tricks on her? If anything, a Dementor was definitely far from being an optimistic creature.

The shadowy robes of the Dementor ghosted around her as it circled her. She could feel all the sadness of the world pouring into her, and there was a certain lightheadedness that threatened to make her limbs give way.

In the recesses of her mind however, she heard Ron's hooting laughter, and Harry's amused ribbing about the two of them, followed by Ginny's derisive one when she tried to get one back at Ron... she saw Molly Weasley's beaming face as she brought out a huge Christmas turkey pie, followed by pudding, and all the Weasleys, Harry, and her rushing towards the table to see who could get the first penny in the pudding. There was Dumbledore winking at her when he gave Gryffindor House extra points when the Golden Trio had saved the day again. There was her O. result slip opening before her very eyes, and she noted all the 'Outstandings' (save for that one 'Exceeds Expectations'; she was happy for Harry for getting 'O' in D.A.D.A. though...).

Then there was Draco Malfoy, with his silver-blond hair gleaming in the moonlight when he sank into the armchair at the library. He had turned to face her, and there was the familiar twitch of his mouth that made him seem almost pleasant.

That was enough for her to suddenly break out of her trance and whip out her wand at the black shadow.

"_EXPECTO PATRONUM!_"

A huge cloud erupted from her wand, destabilising her a little as an otter flew up and circled the Dementor. With a flick of its lower body and tail, the Dementor was sent flying backwards. The otter gave chase, and Hermione found herself running forwards again, in the direction of her Patronus. She ran, and ran, and ran, with the white light of her Patronus the only hope she could hold onto.

_Come on, come on, go away!_

It was then that she came to a dead end, with her Patronus hovering by the side. It was fading already. The Dementor was gone. Glaring helplessly at the wall before her, she aimed her wand at it. But several explosive blasts later, all her effort still came to naught.

_Labyrinth of secrets indeed!_ There was no exit now!

But that didn't make sense. Where did the Dementor go to if there was no exit?

She turned around again, her Patronus fading and light bursting out of her wand again to illuminate the passageway. There was nothing. Or at least, as far as she could see with the light.

Exhausted, frustrated, and frightened, Hermione Granger sank to the floor and buried her head in her knees. This was going to be one very, very long quest.


	23. Helga Hufflepuff's Cup

**A/N:** I hope you guys enjoy this one, I hope this one helps to satiate some Dramione appetite X) Thank you so much, my dear reviewers, it's been such a pleasure to know that you guys are enjoying it, and definitely bouquets to the constructive feedback. Would really appreciate them coming in every chapter! Without further ado, here's the next one!

* * *

Hermione ran back to the start of the passageway and stopped right in front of the door.

She tried to wrench it open again.

To her surprise, it opened effortlessly.

She stared in amazement out of the open door, for the spiral staircase was right there.

Hermione stepped out of the passageway and stared back at the door in disbelief.

"Why would I be locked in here to face a Dementor?" She wondered aloud. "And where did it go to?"

A sudden image of the Dementor sucking up the soul of Draco came to mind.

That very thought startled Hermione, and she sprang into action again. She ran up the staircase with all the effort she could muster. Hermione Granger was not athletic by nature, and the air was still rather musty. Still, she managed to clamber all the way – till where the steps ended.

The steps led to another passageway, but without a door this time. Groaning, Hermione sped down the passageway, wand in hand. _Please don't let me meet another Dementor!_

It was then that it suddenly occurred to her that there was something that had been banging against her hip all along. She hadn't really thought about it, but now it seemed to be more prominent than ever, she wasn't sure why. Dipping her hand into her robe pocket as she ran down the staircase, she felt a round object.

It was the DA coin! The one she had performed a Protean charm on!

She could have kicked herself for being so dense as to forget that she had such a coin. It was such a critical survival option!

But she couldn't have let Draco know that she had it. She couldn't let him know that she was going to try communicating with her friends back at Hogwarts. He wouldn't want them to know about him, and what he was doing. He wouldn't have wanted...

Then again, _where was Draco?_

She tried to calm herself down.

Quickly, she pressed hard on the coin, and muttered a string of words as she pulled out her wand with her other hand and tapped on the coin. Then she released her thumb, praying fervently that her magical skills didn't fail her at this critical moment.

It was not long before she came to another dead end, a stone slab right in front of her. This time there were so many carvings adorning the slab. Although Hermione never felt so relieved in her life that she had to solve a puzzle of carvings rather than stare at a blank wall.

Squinting hard as the light of her wand shone at the slab, she noticed that the carvings were in Ancient Runes. Feeling rather thankful that she had persevered to stay in that class, she tried to make out what letters each carved symbol represented.

"S...A...N...T – no, G,...hmm. Is this a V?"

She stared hard. _No, it's a U._

"Okay...S – A – N – G – U – and an E. Sangue. _Sangue?_"

The word rolled off her tongue rather awkwardly. She frowned at it. "Blood?"

What did it mean by 'blood'?

She thought for a moment, then took out the basilisk fang from the pouch at her side and pressed the bloody tip against the side of the carvings. No response.

The ensuing thought didn't really please her. Frowning deeper, she raised her wand at her own hand. Then she winced as she drew blood from her own hand. The pain scorched her palm as she placed it against the side of the carvings.

To her surprise, the stone slab began to rumble ever so slightly. Then it began to move.

Hermione was startled, and she nearly fell back. The pain in her palm forgotten, she quickly squeezed through the gap as it slowly opened, half-scared that it would slam back shut any moment.

Then right in front, was another stone slab, but this time, it was smaller. Hermione groaned inwardly.

However, this time – there were no carvings.

She placed her bloodied palm on it.

Slowly, before her eyes, a little ring appeared before her. She placed her wand near it, and noted that it was a gilded ring with an emerald stone set in it.

"Ring of truth?" She wondered, fingering it. But when she tried to tug it out, it didn't budge. Neither did any spell succeed in getting it out. It was too deeply embedded into the slab.

Then Hermione tried to tug it to the right.

To her utter amazement, there seemed to be some movement.

She used all her might to tug the ring to the right, and slowly, the stone slab budged, sliding to the right without making a sound. There was a glimmer of light by the side. She had to bend in order to fit through the exit it was blocking, and her position was extremely uncomfortable. She thought she could hear voices, and her other hand immediately gripped her wand tightly.

_Who is up there? There's more than one person – what are they talking about?_ She poised herself by the little opening. A little ray of white light burst into her eyes, and she winced, pulling back.

Bracing herself, she pulled as hard as she could on the ring, hoping that it was a gamble she could work out.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Tom Riddle was really about to raise his wand, when the chuckle of Augustus Rookwood broke through the silence once again. "Oh, Master, you didn't think that was the best way of torturing him, did you? What is it that he values dearly? What is it that he really wants? This boy has a body of steel, for he won't melt till you touch the weak point." Rookwood smiled coldly at Draco, whose eyes widened with horror.

"Oh, his father, you mean?" Tom smirked, waving his wand about idly. "Poor Draco, mourning after his father. Did it ever occur to you that you are now following in your father's footsteps? Augustus has told me how and why the _real_ part of me murdered Lucius. Caring too much for people, Draco? Not a trademark of the Death Eaters, you know..."

Draco knew that at some point in time, Tom Riddle's words would touch a raw nerve, and he would spring at him like a jack-in-a-box. He concentrated on thinking elsewhere, instead of the verbosity issuing from the spectre in front of him. Despite the chilling fact that he was going to be murdered, just like his father (oh the irony! To think he had been seeking revenge), there was something that really bothered him. It wasn't just the curling lip Augustus Rookwood was sporting now. It was the gleam in his eyes that was really niggling. Rookwood was enjoying all of this immensely, but at the same time, he seemed to be very attentive to Tom Riddle's words. Something else Tom Riddle had mentioned made him uneasy too.

_Augustus has told me how and why the real part of me murdered Lucius._

And when Tom's voice came back to his ears, the uneasy sensation just buzzed even more.

" ...after my Horcruxes. You are a naive, foolish little boy. You may not be tricked by the innocent facade of a diary, which I have heard has been destroyed. You may be able to track one all the way here even in the depths of Ukraine, thanks to a meddlesome sick minion. You may even know how many there are in total so far. But you know nothing else. And I won't let you get any further."

Privately, Draco wondered if this soul fragment was the second Horcrux that the Dark Lord had created. Surely the Dark Lord had planned from the time he was in Hogwarts when he was asking Slughorn about it – how many Horcruxes he had wanted to create. Seven, just like Hermione said, represented the apex of power in the wizarding world. Judging by the look of this soul fragment, he couldn't have been much older than twenty, and yet still a lot more mature-looking than the sixteen-year-old that Hermione said had materialised from the diary.

The version of Tom Riddle in front of him was not wearing the Hogwarts robes. He had already graduated from the wizarding school.

He boldly advanced down the steps a little, and upon closer look, saw the words "HELGA HUFFLEPUFF" engraved on the cup. Tom let out a low whistle as he watched Draco stare at the cup.

Suddenly, instead of the uneasy feeling, Draco had an inspirational feeling rise up in him. The cogwheels in his mind began to turn fast. He could feel his body trembling.

_The Dark Lord has a taste for grand things..._

"Do you know something else, Draco Malfoy?" Rookwood suddenly asked, a little too sweetly. "You seem to be dying to say something."

_The cup... it's not the second one after all. It's the third Horcrux._

Draco felt like he had to say it , even if it proved inconsequential. And looking at Rookwood, it could prove to be a gamble after all.

"I know what the other Horcrux is." He looked Tom straight in the eye. "Apart from the diary. And this cup. I know the location of Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem."

He prayed hard that he had gotten that right.

With a glance to the side, he noted that Rookwood's eyes were filled with an insane look.

When he looked back at Tom Riddle, he could have sworn he saw a twitch on the young man's face, which sent a thrill through him. But then it was gone in an instant, and replaced by the trademark smirk Draco had seen too often in his own reflection.

"A diadem, you say? How very charming, Draco Malfoy. You have incredible imagination." Tom Riddle's wand was now raised threateningly at Draco's eye level.

Draco stifled a gasp.

The insane look on Rookwood's face had completely engulfed his entire body; he was shaking so hard with what seemed like excitement.

But Draco's heart fell when all the man did was to stand stock still and gaze crazily at him. Rookwood did not move an inch.

Draco stared at him, and then back at Tom Riddle's wand.

_He walked back and forth in front of the wall, muttering anxiously. Clutched tightly in his hand, were two long trinklets, their gold edges peeking out a little through the gaps between his fingers. Muttering harder and pacing faster, he suddenly felt a slight rumbling to his side. He spun around, and there it was, the door that was growing and growing – larger than he had seen it the year before, when it held the DA. It looked a lot more rickety as well, and his hand trembled as he pressed against the door._

There were so many things in this room, he could hardly identify anything – the ladder beside him looked like it was about to collapse on him, while there was a wavering tower of old, dusty books by its side. If Draco so much as nudged the column with his toe, everything would crash to pieces like a game of Muggle dominoes. Probably best not to agitate anything.

He walked through some more, marvelling as he saw a rusty old globe that seemed to shimmer when he spun it, then his itchy fingers tinkled through a few silver poles hanging from a ledge. There were a few suspicious items lurking around, like a rather dark armchair that seemed to emanate evil from it, so Draco thought it wise to keep a distance from it, lest it chomped him up if he tried to settle into it.

Finally, he saw a rather large mass of cut pipes in the corner of the room. There were random insects crawling out of the pipes, and a foul smell was coming from it. He screwed up his face as he approached it, then aimed carefully. With a hurl, both pendants flew through the air and into the entrance of a pipe that was partially obscured by a few others. Satisfied, he turned around.

Something rather odd caught his eye on the left. Squinting hard, he walked towards a mass of golden and maroon robes. Old Gryffindor Quidditch jerseys. He snorted at the pathetic quality of the robes, which seemed to be unravelling and becoming mouldy. Clearly, this was why they were abandoned. But something else was rather odd. The jerseys were piled on top of something. Something that had a rather pointy nose.

Shoving the jerseys away, he saw a rather clean-looking bust of a woman's head and her shoulders. He was a little taken aback as to how polished the bust looked despite being covered with the dusty and mouldy jerseys, as well as the mustiness of the air in this room. Then he realised, she was made of marble. A very beautiful type of marble, that seemed like plain ugly stone at first glance, but yet as he turned his head, little bits of stone sparkled beautifully. He almost swore that the eyes of the woman suddenly gleamed, but he blinked and all he saw next, was that there was a little squiggle at the bottom of the bust. He knelt down and saw small golden letters carved there: ROWENA RAVENCLAW.

So this was the bust of one of the four founders of Hogwarts.

But what was most dazzling of all was the diadem that set upon her head. Even though it was covered with dust such that the entire crown was now grey, Draco could glimpse sparkles of sapphire blue beneath.

He stared at it in awe, his fingers almost reaching out to touch the diadem.

But there was no time to explore; he had to hurry off to classes before Blaise started to get suspicious.

Sighing, he tossed the pile of old jerseys over the bust and diadem again and strode out of the room.

It was strange how he never thought about it again despite how oddly-placed the diadem had been. Maybe it was because he had assumed it was part of the bust. He remembered how Hermione had told him about the best place to hide the Greengrasses' pendants. A place where no one would find them, and yet still allow him to find them back again should he need to retrieve them.

The thought of Hermione Granger made him feel queasy. Was she still trapped in that room? What was she doing? And then to his utmost horror, he could imagine Rookwood march up to her and hurl a Killing Curse at her. And then there was Snape. They would go after him too. He'd be tortured for information about the Order, or brutally murdered just like Lucius was.

_At least I die knowing one more Horcrux. In all, I know four out of seven. Five, if you consider the ring that I have yet to find. That's more than all the four Secret-Keepers put together. At least I die knowing that I could have destroyed him. That's a nice thought._

With one last smirk at Tom Riddle and Rookwood, he closed his eyes, preparing to accept his fate.

_It's just not nice to know she is going to share this fate, and I didn't stop it from being changed..._

-.-.-.-.-.-

Hermione dragged the slab to her right with all the energy she had left. Silently, she crept out of the hole, and into a rather sinister-looking chamber. There were a few snake heads on the wall staring lifelessly at her, and Hermione gulped. But before she could take in more of her surroundings, the sounds in the background became more prominent, and then there was a voice speaking in a very mocking tone,

"...you have incredible imagination."

Hermione realised that she was exiting from a rather tall stone column sprouting out from the ground. But before she tried to peer around the column to see who was talking, a dark shadow suddenly zoomed out from behind her, and over her head – and there it was, a Dementor in front of her, attempting to plow straight into her one more time.

"Dementor!" There was a different voice, letting out an audible gasp.

Hermione uttered the Patronus Charm once again, and just as her otter sprang out of her wand, the stone slab entrance started to move. She quickly rolled out before she was smashed by its weight, with her wand still pointed at the floating Dementor. The Dementor swerved away from Hermione's Patronus, and swooped away and about. There was a terrified cry issuing from the back, and then the mocking voice spoke again, this time more thunderous.

"What is it?"

Suddenly, there was a hissing sound, and Hermione was horrified to see an apparition swoop in front of her. It was an apparition of a rather familiar face, and to her horror, she realised that she knew who he was. The memory of Slughorn's meeting with Tom Riddle came to mind, and she felt immobilised upon seeing him.

"Now, who do we have here?"

"That is the girl who helps Harry Potter, my lord. Hermione Granger!"

Hermione was too flabbergasted to even respond, let alone find out who it was who knew her name, but before she could even blink, the apparition of Tom Riddle was looking away from her and behind the column; there was a terrified gasp, and then a very familiar voice spoke incredulously,

"H-Hermione?"

"Draco!" Hermione couldn't help bursting out.

Immediately, there was a yell of pain. Hermione instantly forgot her fear and stood up, only to watch in horror as Draco was thrown backwards onto the huge flight of steps. On the other side, stood a rather portly man with an insane look in his eyes, his wand outstretched. So this was the man who knew her name. But how...?

"_STUPE-_" But Hermione never got to finish her spell, for her wand flew out of her hand, and Rookwood caught it, his eyes intoxicated with insane delight. Tom Riddle floated over, laughing. As her eyes followed Riddle, she saw the beautifully jewelled cup placed on top of the column she had crawled out of. The words "HELGA HUFFLEPUFF" were engraved at the bottom.

Draco coughed and hacked violently, sputtering blood as he stood up to face the mad Augustus Rookwood, and the arrogant Tom Riddle. And Hermione Granger – she... she had just burst out of nowhere. _Nowhere!_ With that sodding Dementor! And it was still lurking in the background.

And Hermione was now without her wand.

Then suddenly, he began to cry out,

"THE CUP! THE CUP!"

Hermione stared in bewilderment as Draco, lying helplessly on the steps – obviously heavily injured by the blow the portly man had dealt him – screamed those words repeatedly. Suddenly, Tom Riddle had his wand pulled out, and Rookwood was directing both his own and Hermione's wands at Draco and Hermione respectively. In a split second, Hermione figured out what Draco was saying. The reason why Tom Riddle's apparition was here – or rather, his _soul fragment_, had to be because there was a Horcrux in this room. And there was no doubt as to what the Horcrux was.

With a swift movement, her fingers dove into the pouch at her side, and she brought the basilisk fang within centimetres of the bejewelled cup.

"NOOOO... GET HER!" Tom Riddle's thunderous voice boomed, and the wands in Rookwood's hands fired simultaneously. Draco screamed again, and Hermione, who was not tall enough to smash the fang into the cup, had ended up knocking the cup over to the ground. However, the impact of both wands shooting out magic completely disorientated Rookwood, and he fell backwards clumsily.

Riddle gave a roar of fury, and he shot a green jet of light straight towards Hermione as she appeared from behind the column to aim for the cup. Instantly, Hermione ducked behind the column, and the stone blocks above exploded into bits and pieces, rocking the whole place with violent tremors.

"HERMIONE!" Draco cried, and he heaved himself up with all the strength that he had. He raised his wand towards Tom Riddle, but suddenly he found himself being shot backwards again, against the wall. He yelled with the pain the impact had brought to his head and back, as he fell hard on the staircase, and began to roll down – thump, thump, thump!

"Oh my goodness, Draco!" Hermione had peeked out from the other side, and gasped in horror to see him tumbling down the flight of stairs.

Fortunately, Draco managed to break his fall by extending his limbs out to get a grip on the staircase. But before he could steady himself, Rookwood's wand was at his throat, and he saw the Death-Eater smiling down at him. That unnervingly amiable smile.

"You can't go anywhere."

But those words didn't come from Rookwood; they were from Tom Riddle, whose wand was aiming at the last stone block where Hermione was.

"I don't even have to protect my Horcrux," Tom Riddle laughed, mirthlessly. "You are a worthless creature. Why are you here with Draco Malfoy?"

Hermione shuddered and closed her eyes tightly, refusing to speak.

Something in what Tom Riddle had said really made Draco stare at Rookwood.

"You're really after the Horcruxes, aren't you?"

Tom Riddle was about to open his mouth again due to Hermione's silence, but Draco's voice made him close his mouth again. Rookwood merely sported a nonchalant smile as he pressed his wand deeper into Draco's throat, causing the boy to choke a little.

"The – the Dark Lord didn't send you after me," Draco rasped, staring hard at Rookwood. "If he did, he would have gotten rid of me before I came here. He – he couldn't have known that I'd make it this far!"

"You're uttering complete nonsense, Draco!" Rookwood glared back at him, all traces of smiles gone. His wand pulled back a little. "He knew once you stepped in here!"

"This is the soul fragment of the Dark Lord, encased in this cup when he was merely a youth!" spat Draco. "This soul fragment has separate memories from the Dark Lord, memories only from his youth! He sure didn't know who I was, and what I was here for. But he knows about my father. He knows how my father was murdered. So who has been feeding him this information? Who else but the Secret-Keeper of this Horcrux? You couldn't have been telling him all this the moment I walked in till the moment I discovered you, that is too short a time period. You've been here all this while, Rookwood."

"The Dark Lord is not stupid; he knows who enters and who doesn't!" Rookwood hissed, wand jabbing hard at Draco's throat again. At the corner of his eyes, Draco could see that Tom Riddle was distracted by their conversation, even though his wand was still pointed at the column, where Hermione was still hiding behind.

"I don't know how you did it then," Draco said in a low voice. "But you led me here. It was you who placed the cauldron there, and carved the instructions on how to use the spell to evoke the Dark Mark onto the base, didn't you? You are the new Secret-Keeper of this place after my father; you knew Wentervale had found it. Let me guess, you used that as an excuse to come here regularly, didn't you? You probably told the Dark Lord that you wanted to hunt Wentervale down, but actually you wanted to search for clues leading to the other Horcruxes as well!"

The light in Rookwood's eyes had darkened; he was now seething with insane rage.

"Then you found out that Hermione and I have come. You are aware of her, but this soul of Tom Riddle is not. So you have fed him the story of Harry Potter; if not, how would he have known who she was just by the fact that you mentioned she is Potter's friend?" Draco was gaining confidence with every accusation he made. "You led me here to bring the soul of Tom Riddle out of that Horcrux, because you couldn't talk to him about where he had kept his other Horcruxes on your own without arousing suspicion. You knew that this was not the first Horcrux, don't you?"

In an instant, Hermione deduced that all the runes that had been carved into the stone slab earlier on must have been plotted by Rookwood as well, to lead her here. It was incredibly intricate planning on Rookwood's part; when he was stalking both of them, he must have figured out that Hermione knew more than enough to aid him to find the other Horcruxes.

"And the Dark Lord actually trusted you to hunt for Wentervale, and he must be pleased to hear that Wentervale is now dead." Draco's eyes narrowed. "How can he suspect you, Augustus Rookwood? How _can_ he?"

Rookwood was now shaking with fury; his mouth began to open – but Hermione was faster. She took advantage of the fact that Tom Riddle had now swung his body to face Rookwood, with an enraged expression on his ghostly face – and she dove towards Helga Hufflepuff's cup. With one swift motion, she stabbed down on the cup with the fang.

"NOOOOOO!" The wrenching cry burst into everyone's eardrums. Rookwood stumbled backwards in horror, falling over the steps as he did, the wand in his right hand clattering to the ground. Draco stared, aghast, at the monstrosity before him – holes were appearing in the apparition of Tom Riddle, just like the patches on Wentervale's skin, blotting out his body, and the eyeballs were bulging out of their sockets, his head flung back...

"YOUUUU TRAITORRRRR...!" the ghostly figure screamed, finger pointing at Rookwood, who was shaking uncontrollably with a mixture of pure terror and delight on his face. "AND YOUUUUUU..." The figure made to lunge towards Hermione.

"Hermione, look out!" screamed Draco.

Hermione reached out and stabbed once more, with all her might. There was another cry of rage and helplessness ringing in the air, before the apparition of Tom Riddle burst out with a bang of bright white light, receded into a small speck, and finally, it was gone.

Rookwood stared, completely glued to the steps, as Draco immediately leapt up, and pointed his own wand at Rookwood. Hermione scrambled over and grabbed her wand from the floor where Rookwood had dropped it, and she too, aimed the wand at Rookwood. Her hair was bushier than ever, and her eyes were frenzied.

The familiar smile appeared on Rookwood's face. "Surely you cannot think of killing me, my children? Should I express my gratitude as well?"

"We are not _children_, much less _your_ children!" Draco's eyes burned with hatred.

"You know you cannot kill me, Draco." Rookwood smirked. "And that I will carry tales."

A sudden movement; Hermione gasped.

"The Dementor's gone!"

Rookwood's eyes widened.

"You are dead meat, Rookwood," said Draco, coldly. "The Dementor will be the one carrying tales before you try any tricks. The Dark Lord knows of your betrayal. It turns out that you think too highly of yourself. The Dark Lord trusts _no one_, or else he wouldn't have sent the Dementor. The only reason why he has Secret-Keepers is not because he trusts them, but because he needs protection for his Horcruxes."

_And it tried to stop me from reaching Draco,_ thought Hermione, wryly.

"You are no better!" Rookwood roared. "He will destroy you, just like he did your father!"

Draco made to move towards him, but Hermione's wand pressed against Draco's hand. He glared at her, enraged, but she shook her head slightly.

"You won't last long," she said quietly, turning to Rookwood. "But we are both on the same route, and you know it."

"We are _not_ on the same route." Draco curled his lip. "This man is doing it for self-glorification – he wants to be the next Dark Lord!"

At that, Rookwood chuckled, and with a snap of his fingers, he had disappeared.

Draco was trembling with rage; he knew that Rookwood's next target would be to penetrate Hogwarts. But at the same time, even though Rookwood's aim was to destroy the Horcrux, he would do anything in the process to get to it. Which meant that Hogwarts was in danger.

Suddenly, the ground began to shake tremendously. With a violent shudder, huge rock boulders began to tumble down towards the entrance Draco had come in from. More rocks began to shower around them, rolling down the steps.

"MOVE!" Draco yelled, and both of them scurried down the steps.

"The column!" screamed Hermione, shoving the basilisk fang in her hand into her pouch, and quickly, she dove behind the column, desperately banging around it. "Open up! OPEN!"

"How did you get out from here?" Draco shouted, amidst the tumbling rocks. Then he spotted the golden cup of Helga Hufflepuff's, and ran towards it.

"Draco, careful!" And he ducked just in time to avoid a rock sailing over his head.

_How did she get out?_

Sangue.

Immediately, she drew blood from her palm with her wand, trying to dodge the showers of debris that the tumbling rocks were bringing with them. Slapping her palm against the rock, the same emerald ring appeared again.

"Draco, I need your help!" Hermione tried her best to tug at the ring, but it only moved a little.

Draco ran back, the cup tucked under his arm, and he lunged at the ring, dragging it as far as he could. The slab slowly moved aside.

"Watch out!" He whipped out his wand and deflected a stone that was bounding towards Hermione.

Swiftly, Hermione squeezed through the opening and into the darkness beyond. Draco gritted his teeth and pulled harder, before jumping into the opening, just narrowly avoiding a rock that was about to hit him. The slab then slammed shut behind him.

Draco knew better than to ask questions, so he hurriedly ran behind Hermione as they raced down the narrow passageway. Hermione led the way, although she couldn't think of any possible exit that the spiral staircase ahead would bring. But with the rumbling behind them, perhaps it was just best that they went down all the way.

They reached the staircase and descended it as quickly as they could, the rumbling sound thundering all the way through the walls.

As they ran, Hermione dimly remembered passing by two passageways – the one with the door that had locked on her, and the other which she had mysteriously transported to after dipping the basilisk fang into the cauldron. Finally, when they reached the base of the staircase, Hermione stopped suddenly, and Draco nearly plowed straight into her, letting out a swear word as he did.

Hermione just stared ahead. This was a new passageway altogether. It seemed like a very long one to boot.

"Where does this lead to?" demanded Draco, who was hardly panting compared to the heaving Hermione had to endure given her lack of stamina.

"I – don't – know..." Hermione panted. There were reverberations all around them, and she could imagine all the tumbling rocks piling up in that chamber.

Then she noticed the cup Draco was holding. She backed into the wall behind her, breathing heavily, but kept her gaze trained on the bejewelled item.

Draco leaned against the wall opposite her, trying to steady his breath as well. Then he looked at Hermione. He was startled by how bright her eyes were as she stared at the cup, as if trying to figure out how it ever contained the soul of Tom Riddle. Then he realised that he should tell her about the diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw!

However, when he saw how she was staring at the cup, a huge barrage of emotions suddenly overcame him and completely enveloped his mind.

He was staring at her – Hermione Granger, in the flesh.

She was here, really here.

He took a step forward unconsciously, his eyes never leaving her.

She wasn't going to be killed by Augustus Rookwood – well, at least not for now, he hoped. She had come to save him as well. She had stuck to him all this while, and it was she who had given him inspiration for the things he had done to come this far. It was her brains that led them here, her courage that inspired him to fight on, her rationality that kept them safe... and her care that kept him strong when the soul fragment of Tom Riddle had brandished his wand – in the face of death.

Hermione suddenly felt a tingle run through her; she lifted up her head and found that Draco was staring at her.

That completely knocked the breath out of her. She felt compelled to look back into his gray eyes – they were now so soft, and so weary-looking that her heart ached once again. The blood that was on the edge of his lips; she was fighting not to reach out to wipe it off.

This was who he was – the boy behind all those masks that he put on in school, in front of everyone. The Death Eater who wasn't; how he sank to the snow-covered ground after the Quidditch match, shaking like a small, helpless boy. All the fits of rage that slowly simmered into gruff consent, the tingling feeling of his touch on her cheek as he gazed wearily into her eyes, the way he had gasped her first name out when she was being threatened by Tom Riddle... he had said her first name.

"_H-Hermione?_"

Then the emotion of how she had nearly lost him engulfed her all at once. She had thought she was all alone without him anymore, and the only thing in her mind was to find him again. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words refused to come out. Instead, she could feel the tears prick her eyes again as she stepped forward, closer to him.

_He'll say you're a crybaby again, stop crying!_

Draco saw the parted lips, and the emotions were just too much for him to handle.

In an instant, he had her in his arms, his lips pressed against hers. The cup in his hand clattered to the ground. He sensed that she was startled as she struggled against him, but he refused to let go . He had his eyes shut tightly, as if to hold onto this moment for as long as he could. There was nothing else in his mind, except that he wanted to feel that she was here, real and alive.

And she was.

Now he could feel her hands relaxing against his chest instead of trying to push him away. Then gradually, her arms slid up his neck to hook around, and her taut lips became softer as they responded to his kiss. He opened his eyes slightly to see her shut ones, and then closed them once again, cradling her waist as he tasted the strawberry scent on her lips.

In his mind, he couldn't help being amused. After running so much and being so worn out, she actually still had hints of lip gloss. Hints that reminded him of the times when he was at a distance and all that Hermione Granger did was to awaken his senses with that infuriating scent.

Except that it wasn't so infuriating anymore.


	24. Expect the Unexpected

**A/N:** Really appreciate those who pointed out errors, I've tried my best to fix them! Continue to let me know yeah? I tend to be quite muddleheaded. Hope you guys will like this one!

* * *

She didn't know how long they had stood there for, or how they looked like. All she knew was that the way he was kissing her now was making her feel incredibly lightheaded. And she could swear, it felt like a tiny bud of happiness in her heart had burst out into full blossom when he had pulled her towards him just to place his lips on hers.

It had completely taken her aback, but at the same time, it was as if subconsciously, she had been waiting for this very moment. All the prickling electricity between them before was still making her feel incredibly flushed. In her mind, there was a hazy memory of Draco's arm on hers, pulling her and Corrinne Whitemayer apart – or rather, him pulling Corrinne off her... the rage inscribed on his face when he saw Corrinne lunge at her... Hermione let the memory dissipate in order to feel the warmth of the kiss.

Finally, when the reverberations around them had completely stopped, she retreated a little to break the kiss. But Draco's arms were still tightly wound around her, and he leaned his forehead on hers, staring deeply into her eyes. She could see the gray orbs in his eyes sparkling – for the first time, she could see life in them – but his face was still as impassive as ever. She could feel his warm breath all over her face, and the beads of perspiration that were dotting his forehead and temples. Even his neck, where her arms were still fastened around, was just as hot and flushed as she was.

"Are you okay?" she whispered.

Nobody had ever asked him this question with such genuine feeling. The last time his parents really asked him that question – he could barely remember if they ever did. In the Malfoy family, the parents always planned ahead for their children. It was never if _he_ was okay, but rather if _the situation_ was okay.

And this girl – this girl that he had been brought up to despise because of her blood, was the only one who had stood by the decisions that he had made himself. The only one who really made him feel like he was an individual. Draco Malfoy, the person. Not Draco Malfoy, the one who has to walk in the Malfoy footsteps. Even when his father died, he was expected to walk in his footsteps to become a Death Eater, whatever the intention.

He found it really hard to form words, just looking into those warm brown eyes of hers.

She looked pained at his lack of response, and her eyes turned towards the ground as she released her arms around his neck. But he did not let go.

"Draco..." She tried to pull away, but his arms remained firmly around her.

"You're strange." Draco's voice was strained. "You do the strangest things ever, Hermione Granger. Why do you do them?"

Hermione felt herself smile. "I don't know."

Draco closed his eyes and pressed harder against her forehead, his thumb running circles on her back. That little movement made Hermione shudder even though his embrace was warm. It seemed rather foreign to her to have someone holding her so intimately – especially when the someone had been looking down on her blood for as long as she could remember, and was a Death Eater to boot – yet at the same time, it really warmed her entirely.

She tentatively reached out to brush away the trail of blood at the edge of his lips; he shut his eyes to feel the soft touch of her fingers.

"Do you have something to tell me?" she asked, softly, trying hard not to think of the 'Death Eater' bit.

That question snapped Draco back to reality. Immediately, he let go of her, and then backed away a few steps, running his hand through his mussed blond hair. His face had turned hard once again. "Yes, yes, there was something..."

Hermione tried not to look disappointed at the break in contact. Her hand, which had been in mid-air trying to clean the blood off his face, fell back to her side.

Then Draco snapped his fingers. "Right! I wanted to tell you that I know of another Horcrux!"

Hermione forgot her disappointment; her eyes were huge and round. "You do?"

"Yes!" And Draco began to tell of how he had discovered the diadem on Rowena Ravenclaw's bust, and how Tom Riddle indirectly acknowledged that it was another Horcrux, likely the second one created after the diary.

"And quite likely created while Tom Riddle was still at Hogwarts, or else it wouldn't be in the Room of Requirement," said Draco. "Nobody would bother searching through all the junk in that room."

"That's brilliant!" Hermione felt a wave of relief wash over her. "So with the diary and Helga Hufflepuff's cup destroyed, that just leaves the diadem, the ring, the one in the basin at the first cave, ..." She began to falter. "And two more."

"That's good enough," muttered Draco, hastily. "And we might be able to deduce what those two are. If two of his Horcruxes are items belonging to two out of four founders of Hogwarts, then..."

"I know for sure that Godric Gryffindor's sword has always been with Hogwarts," said Hermione, firmly.

Draco raised his eyebrows, and Hermione smiled. "Harry pulled out the sword from the Sorting Hat before to kill the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. Dumbledore said that only a true Gryffindor can do that."

"Oh." Draco felt a little annoyed at the mention of Potter.

"There's still Salazar Slytherin's though..." Hermione frowned. "Have you any idea what precious item he might have?"

Draco shook his head. "Not that I know of. But it's highly likely that the Dark Lord might choose an item from him – Slytherin was so very like him. Besides, he is Slytherin's heir."

At that, he winced a bit. He sounded like he was really championing the Dark Lord.

"Who was that man in the chamber just now?" Hermione suddenly remembered. "He's a Death Eater, isn't he? But he – he wanted to go after the Horcruxes himself, didn't he?"

"Augustus Rookwood," growled Draco. "One of the longest-serving Death-Eaters. But I can bet all my Galleons that he just wants to usurp the Dark Lord. We have to get rid of him before he destroys the last of the Horcruxes and absorbs some kind of power from the destruction to become the new Lord."

"But Voldemort will now know that he is a traitor, won't he? The Dementor..."

Draco flinched at the name of the Dark Lord, then he sighed. "Yes, and what's more, the Dementor will report that I was there too. It will be clear as crystal to the Dark Lord that I am betraying him."

"I was the one who stabbed the Horcrux!" said Hermione, hotly.

For the first time in her life, Hermione saw a little smile appear on Draco's face. It wasn't even a smirk; it was a proper smile. It made him look so different; perhaps this cave was pretty much churning out some kind of Optimism after all.

"_There's no room for heroes_... or should I say heroines?"

Hermione had to smile, although it was a weary smile. The quote reminded her of Dumbledore, and she thought of the coin in her robe pocket. It made her even more discomfited seeing Draco like that now, and the fact that she had just alerted Harry and Ron. Or at least, she was hoping that they would be alerted.

"But Rookwood heard me declare to the Dark Lord that I knew where the diadem was. He is bound to get to Hogwarts." Draco paused, his face darkening as Hermione stared at him in growing horror. "And not just that, the Dementor will tell the Dark Lord that both of us know it, and he will try to protect that Horcrux of his."

"Hogwarts is in danger!" Hermione clapped her hand to her mouth thereafter.

Draco nodded gravely. He looked at the shocked face of Hermione, and he could feel a thousand and one emotions bubble within him again. He felt like pulling her into an embrace once more, even though thinking about it made him feel rather hot in the face. Instead, he grunted in frustration and sank to the floor with a scowl, mussing up his hair even more with his hand.

"I have an idea." Hermione turned to look at the rest of the passageway they were in. "Let's try to get out of here first."

-.-.-.-.-.-

"The Horcrux is in there?" Harry whispered, as Dumbledore pointed his lit wand to the middle of the cave, where the beautifully carved basin stood. It was awkward trying to squeeze everyone along the narrow platform where they had arrived on from the equally narrow staircase.

"Yes," said Dumbledore, but he looked grave. "And I need your help, Harry, for I believe it is only you who can retrieve it for me."

Harry gulped.

"Do not worry." Dumbledore smiled. "I will go with you."

"It is too dangerous!" snapped Lupin, but Tonks placed a hand on his shoulder. "Remus, let Albus decide. He knows what he is doing."

"Thank you, Tonks," said Dumbledore, dipping his head slightly. "Remus, I must ask a favour of you. That you take everyone across to that platform over there." And Dumbledore turned his wand to the distant area where he had brought Draco and Hermione to. "And from there, let the children take over."

Lupin stared at him in disbelief, but Dumbledore's serious face meant that there was no room for discussion. Defeated, Lupin conjured up two boats, and hustled everyone along. He, Tonks, Neville and Corrinne took one boat, and Mad-Eye Moody led Ron, Ginny and Luna on the other. As they boarded the boat, Harry watched the roving eye of Mad-Eye Moody, which made his heart even chillier than usual. Everytime it moved so fast, it made him think there was danger lurking around.

"You afraid, boy?" The deep, coarse voice of Mad-Eye shook him.

Harry managed a faint smile, hoping that was sufficient enough an answer. He looked at Ron, who gave him an equally faint smile, and Ginny, whose red hair was more flaming than ever, and in her eyes, was the same hard look she had when he first kissed her.

The boats began to sail away.

"Sir..." Harry began, as he watched the boats disappear into the mist.

"Be brave, Harry," said Dumbledore, quietly. "We will wait till they reach the other end. For lying in these waters, are Inferi."

_That sure is comforting_, thought Harry, bitterly.

After what seemed like a terribly long wait, Dumbledore finally raised his wand, and from the depths of the water, rose a tip of a boat. Then slowly, the entire boat emerged from beneath. Harry stared warily at it.

Dumbledore motioned for him to step in it, and followed thereafter. As the boat made its way towards the basin, Harry thought he saw the small structure glow a little. He blinked; it remained eerily grey with the light that Dumbledore was illuminating it with.

"Sir..."

Dumbledore motioned to his lips with his finger, and Harry fell silent. When the boat hit the platform, Dumbledore gingerly stepped out, and Harry followed suit. The silence was so deafening and chilling at the same time. Harry thought he might half expect Inferi jumping out of the waters. Not that he had any idea what they looked like, but he had a good feeling that it wouldn't be the most pleasant of faces.

Both of them walked up to the basin, and Harry raised his eyebrows as he looked into it. Beneath the clear liquid, right at the bottom of the basin, was a locket. And on that locket, there was a intricately-carved snake in the shape of an 'S' on top of it. Harry instinctively reached out to retrieve it.

"No!" Dumbledore's voice was not loud, but it was so commanding that Harry's hand immediately went back to his side, and he flushed.

"It is poisonous water, remember?" The Headmaster stared at the basin. "The only way to retrieve the locket is to drink the water."

"Professor, you can't be serious, you just said it was poisonous!" Harry was alarmed.

Dumbledore obviously looked more than serious, and Harry gulped. He knew that Dumbledore wanted to do this because he was more powerful, stronger, wiser than Harry was. But still...

"Harry." In Dumbledore's hand, a pitcher magically appeared. Harry swallowed hard again.

Each step towards the basin made him ill.

When he stared into the basin, he found himself more occupied with the reflection that was staring back at him, than the locket right at the bottom.

Just as he was about to put the pitcher into the liquid, he felt something vibrate in his coat pocket. With one hand, he pulled out what he had forgotten resided in his pocket. Staring hard at it, he looked back at Dumbledore, who was eyeing him. Slowly, the older wizard walked over and picked up the object. His eyes narrowed as he scanned through it.

"Is it..."

"Your friends will handle that," said Dumbledore, quietly. "Please, Harry, you must hurry."

Harry closed his eyes as he dipped the pitcher into the liquid.

On the other side of the cave, Lupin was feeling terribly apprehensive as he watched Neville, Corrinne, Luna, Ginny and Ron slip through the crack. Neville groaned as he moved through, but he could still squeeze through anyhow. Tonks tried to follow suit, but Lupin held onto her arm tightly. She looked at him questioningly, but Lupin shook his head.

"Albus wanted the children to go ahead," said Moody, gruffly. "By themselves."

Tonks glanced up at Lupin, then frowned. "You know..."

"Tonks can't fit through," announced Lupin, loud enough for the rest to hear.

"Ah," Moody let out a low cough. "It was meant to be a dead end because no child would have made it here so far. Even if one was as small a wizard like Wentervale, if he squeezed through, he would have met his end with the dragon. It was just that Voldemort hadn't the faintest idea that Wentervale was a dragon Animagus."

"Tonks can't fit through?" Ron's voice was slightly incredulous. "But..."

Lupin frowned, then bent down to the crack. "What do you see there?"

"Lots and lots of Riddlebees..." came a dreamy voice.

Remus Lupin looked up at Moody with a perplexed expression. "Err...Riddlebees?"

"Sorry, that's just one of Luna's erm – " Ron tried to sound diplomatic. "Conjectures."

"It's an abyss," came Corrinne's hard voice. "But for some reason or another, there's a glowing light right at the bottom. Or middle. I can't tell how deep this thing is. Luna thinks it's a colony of Riddlebees."

"They give off light when they're scared," said Luna, simply. "Spells danger."

"R-right..." muttered Ron.

"A glowing light in the middle of an abyss?" Moody thought hard. "Remus, I think we must take a look for ourselves."

"Hey!" A shout from Neville made the adults turn their heads towards the crack, and Lupin yelled back, "What happened?"

Neville reached into his pocket, and Luna followed suit, as well as Ginny and Ron. Corrinne stared in bewilderment as all of them produced a coin in their hand.

"What – "

"It vibrated!" Neville stared at it.

"And there're words!" Ron gasped.

"What?" Lupin was baffled.

"It's our DA coin," explained Ginny, hurriedly. "Basically it's a group of us that want to help defeat Voldemort and last term our Defence teacher was pathetic. Hermione charmed this coin for all the DA members to inform them when there is danger..."

Before Corrinne could remark, Neville was reading out what was on the coin.

"Trans... transporting veil..."

"Veil..." Ron squinted hard. "Is that word 'abyss'?"

"The last word is definitely 'Dumbledore'," said Luna, quietly.

All of them stared at each other.

"What's going on?" demanded Lupin, angrily.

"Hermione sent us a message!" Ron yelled back, excitedly. "She says 'transporting veil abyss Dumbledore!'"

Tonks stared at Lupin and Moody in bewilderment. "What gibberish is that?"

"Well, abyss definitely means where we are now," said Neville, loud enough for the Order members to hear. "And I don't think Hermione knows that we are here, so she must be asking us to tell Professor Dumbledore."

"What's a transporting veil?" asked Corrinne.

"It requires very powerful magic to cast a transporting veil," called out Moody, his magical eye rolling a bit faster and more maniacally than usual. "As it name suggests, it transports someone from one place to another."

"The glowing light..." Lupin trailed off, his eyes shining.

Moody nodded. "Okay, I think it's really time that we should join the kids," he said in a rasping voice.

Lupin looked doubtful. "But..."

Moody shoved him aside and raised his wand.

Just as Moody was about to cast spells to attempt to make the crack wider, there was a huge reverberation that caused all of their knees to buckle, and all fell to the ground, including the five who were on the other side of the crack.

"What was that?" demanded Ginny, horrified.

Lupin immediately got up to run down the corridor, and then back to where the lake was. When he came back down, his face was grim. "The Inferi have been awoken. Half of them are heading to where Albus and Harry are."

Tonks' eyes flew open in shock.

"And half of them," Lupin gritted his teeth, "are coming here."

Moody marched over and roughly pushed Lupin and Tonks aside.

"KIDS, LISTEN HERE!" He bellowed through the crack.

"WE'RE NOT KIDS!" Ron bellowed back, but Ginny tugged at his sleeve angrily.

"We need you to get to the Veil, NOW! We've no time to join you all, the Inferi are coming!" There were gasps from all of them. "Remus, Nymphadora..."

"Tonks, you git!" came the annoyed voice of Tonks.

"SHUT UP!" Moody was exasperated. "ALL OF US HERE. We're going to stop the Inferi..."

"ALASTOR!" Lupin yelled.

"GO!" Moody roared.

There seemed to be a lot of noise coming from the other side, and there was a sudden red glow in the crack. The four teenagers slowly backed away when they saw a glimpse of flames licking out through it.

"What are we going to do?" demanded Corrinne, looking down at the abyss with a disconcerted expression. "Jump?"

"I don't think we need to do that," said Ginny, firmly, and pointed upwards.

Everyone's gaze followed her, and they saw something that looked like the edge of a broom in the darkness – on a stone ledge.

"What's a broom doing there?" wondered Neville.

"Well, it's a sodding broom, alright? That means we can skip the option of suicide?" Ginny rolled her eyes.

Neville didn't seem to think that flying was a better alternative, but he decided to shut up.

"Only two of us, maximum, can fit on that!" Ron shouted.

Ginny bit her lip, then she looked at Corrinne. The older girl's red eyes were now a bright, gleaming ruby red that seemed to give her a lot of confidence for some inexplicable reason.

"You guys trust my flying skills?" The hard look had come back into Ginny's eyes.

Corrinne was torn between insulting Ginny after the latter had chided her for banging into Zabini during the last match, and really acknowledging Ginny's skills. In the end, she nodded. With that, Neville nodded vehemently. Only Ron looked mildly skeptical.

"_Accio broom!_"

"Ginny..."

"Stop being wishy-washy, Ron, it's all we've got!"

"You know I'm... scared of heights, right?" Ron cleared his throat as he said that, probably only thankful for the darkness because it hid the bright red flush that was going up his neck.

"You're Quidditch Keeper, Ron," said Luna, mildly.

"Yeah, but being _on_ a broom, and hanging _from_ a broom is kind of..."

Corrinne grinned as Ginny caught the broom and mounted it. "But Neville's the biggest here. He can't be flying at tailend compared to you."

"I can fly!" wailed Ron, but Ginny shook her head. "No, Ron, not with Keeper skills. This needs agility."

Ron grumbled as Neville climbed on awkwardly behind Ginny. Luna, being the smallest, somehow managed to squeeze on in front of Ginny. There was only so much space at the back where the broom hairs were, for Ron and Corrinne to grasp on.

"I'll hold your hand!" Neville looked at Corrinne, who smiled gratefully. Ron was about to protest when Ginny yelled exasperatedly at them to hurry. With that, Ron whimpered and grabbed part of the broomstick and its hairs, while Corrinne grabbed onto whatever was left, with her right hand firmly in Neville's grasp.

"Ready?" Ginny asked, hoping that her shivering was more out of her cold than fear. Although she knew better.

"Never been more so!" Luna offered, chirpily.

Ron let out a loud groan. "Easy for you to say, you're on the broom..."

"Okay, so, one –"

"This is dreadful..."

"THE INFERI!" screamed Corrinne, as the ghostly figures began to seep through the crack and appear before them (or at least Corrinne and Ron were facing them). Ron's face turned white when he saw the empty faces of the corpses trudging towards them.

"Merlin's..."

"GO!"

"AAAAHHHHHHH!"

-.-.-.-.-.-

"I... I... this is hopeless!" Hermione groaned, as she sank to the ground.

She and Draco had been running down the long passageway, only to find themselves emerge at the same place where they had discovered the hole in the ground. The hole was still there, where Hermione had blown the ground to pieces. Circling it, they had to walk sideways through the narrow pathway that was covered with mist. When they had finally squeezed out of it, they were back in the large cave that was filled with stalactites and stalagmites. After running for a long time, Hermione found herself very out of breath.

"You can't just stop here!" Draco was exasperated. "We're actually on the route back! Stop for any moment now and the – " He scowled. "The Dark Lord will come!"

"You think I don't know that?" Hermione demanded, weakly. She closed her eyes as she took in gulps of air. "I'm just not physically cut out for this, Mr Macho Quidditch Player!"

Draco paused, then he cocked an amused eyebrow at her. "You think I'm macho?"

Hermione's eyes flew open in horror. "I did not say that!"

Draco chuckled. "So you did."

If it had been back at Hogwarts, when she and Draco were in the library at night discussing what to do next, Hermione might have found that little chuckle rather warming. It would have added to that budding human dimension she was discovering in him. But now she found it extremely disconcerting, and she looked away.

Draco's amused look faded, and was replaced by the traditional scowl. "Well Miss Let's-Hug-Libraries, maybe we should _really_ try to find a way out before we starve and freeze to death," then he snorted. "Or maybe get _Avada Keda_ – "

"Alright, don't say it!" It was Hermione's turn to be exasperated, colouring a little at the word 'libraries' given her earlier thought. She struggled to get up. "Fine, I'll just – "

He held out his hand to her once again. Hermione stared at it like it was a can of worms.

Or at least, given what had happened the last time he did this, she _had_ opened a can of worms.

Draco frowned. "Stop staring at my hand like it's full of worms."

Hermione groaned inwardly. _Stop bloody reading my mind!_

She reluctantly took his hand and heaved herself up, careful to maintain some distance as she got up and pulled her hand out of his grip. The kiss that they had shared earlier on now felt too surreal, and what was bothering her now was the coin that was banging against her side in her pocket.

_Oh now it chooses to be conspicuous, doesn't it?_ She felt angry with herself as she followed Draco, who had turned away wordlessly to lead the way. _Then again, I'm not betraying him. He's the one with the Death Eaters. I'm Harry and Ron's best friend. I have a duty to tell them about this, because we're all helping the Order. And they'd want to know what happened to me, disappearing off with Draco like that._

But even as she tried to console herself, the fact that she was now calling him 'Draco' (and maybe also that he had called her 'Hermione' just now) was making her feel more terrible than ever.

_He should know!_ She scolded herself, as she trudged along the damp ground. _He should know that I would have told Harry and Ron. Even that faithful day at the Quidditch pitch – he had just broken down like that. It's not my fault that he wanted to be so vulnerable. It's not my fault that I happened to be nearby when he was talking to Snape at the Hospital Wing. It's not my fault that I heard about Maldash Wentervale and he decided to tell me the story behind it all. Or that he decided to let me see that parchment his father left him. Or that..._

"Everywhere looks the same!" Draco's roar of frustration shook her out of her reverie.

Hermione was still in a cloud of guilt, not only because of her attempts to push the blame away from herself, but also the fact that she was secretly hoping that the DA and the Order would come and rescue them. At least it would be easier for the group of them to come here and find them instead of the other way round. And at least they wouldn't be stupid enough to walk away from the Transporting Veil without marking their path. She fervently hoped that the Veil was still in use.

"Do you think the Veil is still working?"

Hermione could have screamed in frustration. _He should just stop repeating what my mind says!_

"Hermione Granger, are you even thinking about how to escape this place?" Draco glared at her when she did not respond, except to look rather annoyed. Now he was really furious.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione suddenly felt hurt. "You mean I want us to be trapped here?"

She instantly felt another pang of guilt by saying that. Right now, her head was swimming with so many thoughts that it was hurting very badly. She felt like sinking to the floor again, with the thudding in her head.

Draco closed his eyes, massaging his temples. Then he opened his eyes again, and this time the look was gentler. "I didn't mean that."

Then he held out his hand to her.

Again.

"You look like you're going to faint," he muttered, when he saw Hermione staring at him. "Come on."

_Stop it, Draco Malfoy... stop being so nice to me... you... oh argh!_

Hermione tried to ignore the thudding in her body as she took his hand. It felt warm, having her hand enclosed in his. She swallowed hard as she followed him, his fingers firmly around hers. Once or twice, because her fingers were cold, he would rub them a little. When she stole a look at him however, his face was expressionless.

_Stop it, Hermione. Stop looking..._

"This place looks vaguely familiar..." mumbled Draco, as he raised his wand to light up the place further. The bejewelled cup of Helga Hufflepuff dangled on his last three fingers, and the beautiful stones sparkled beneath his wand light. "I think I saw this mangled stalagmite before..."

"AAHHHH!"

"AAHHHH!"

The yells were not very loud – like they were from a far distance – but they shook Draco and Hermione considerably. Before Draco could respond with a bewildered remark, the yells were followed by lots of screaming. The noise seemed to be coming closer and closer, and louder and more piercing.

Draco pulled Hermione along by hand as they tried to scale a small slope.

And beyond the small slope, there was the bright white light of the Transporting Veil.

"The Veil!" gasped Draco, suddenly shaking very hard. "We've found it!" Then he stared at the ground near the Veil. "And the broom! The broom we flew on to come in here! We won't be dropping into that black hole when we get out of here!"

Hermione, who had not seen the Veil before considering that she was unconscious when she entered it, was about to respond with equal enthusiasm when the yells started again, this time VERY loud and VERY piercing.

"AAAHHHHHHHH! GINNNYYYYYY!"

It was not just the last word that shocked Hermione; it was the voice. A voice that she would recognise anywhere.

"What the..." Draco began, completely taken aback.

Suddenly, out of the Veil, something flew out of it – there seemed to be some legs dangling behind, but it was too fast for Draco or Hermione to see – and flew beyond them.

BANG! CRAACCCKKKK...

THUD.

"OOF!" There were collective groans and wails, before that was interrupted by...

"GINNYYY WHAT KIND OF SKILLS DO YOU CALL THAT, YOU...!"

"_RON!_" Hermione finally gasped.

"_HERMIONE?_"

"_WEASEL?_"


	25. Salazar Slytherin's Locket

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter is the property of Ms Rowling.

**A/N:** Once again, a round of thanks to my reviewers, you guys really keep me going (: This one was posted a little in a flurry, I hope the action isn't too confusing! Let me know if the pacing is alright, I'll do the necessary editing if need be. Thanks and enjoy (:

* * *

"MAL – " Ron stopped short, his eyes disbelieving.

For a moment, Hermione's heart stopped. Was her hand still in Draco's?

Thankfully not. They had jumped apart when the flying object had swooped past them. But now, beyond Ron, Hermione could make out the dazed faces of Ginny, Luna, Neville – and Corrinne. Although the last person wasn't exactly dazed; she looked positively livid.

The next thought that came into Hermione's mind was: _aren't I supposed to be relieved that they're here?_

Before Hermione could say anything, Ron had pulled his wand out and directed it at Draco Malfoy, who looked completely bewildered. Slowly, a lazy smirk appeared on the blond boy's face.

"You stay away from her!" yelled Ron, immediately marching forward and thrusting the wand at Draco. With another hand, he pushed Hermione towards the rest. Hermione was about to protest, but Draco merely looked amused.

"If I had wanted to kill her, Weasley," said Draco, with a drawl. "I would have killed her a long time ago."

"Don't try to be funny!" snorted Ron. "You're a Death Eater!"

Draco's smirk was replaced by a deep scowl.

"Stop it, Ron!" Hermione couldn't help but interrupt. "What are you people doing here in the first place?"

"Hermione, this is Malfoy we're talking about! What do you mean..."

"You heard her, Weasley. How did you all come here?" Draco's voice was rising now. It was completely perplexing that the bunch of them could have just come through the veil. What in Merlin's world were they doing, hurtling into the depths of Optimisticheskaya like this?

Then something clicked in him. Unless...

"We got your message, Hermione," said Corrinne, her eyes fixed on Draco instead, burning with hatred. "To come through the Transporting Veil."

Time seemed to stop.

Hermione just stared at Corrinne. A lump had come into her throat. She could feel the heat of someone's fierce gaze boring into her side.

"A _message_?" Draco's voice was no longer filled with sarcasm. It was incredulous. And full of –

Ron fumbled in his robe pocket with his free hand, and brought out the DA coin. Hermione's gaze swivelled to look at the coin, her breathing becoming heavier. "Hermione gave this to us when we were fighting your pathetic Inquisitorial Squad last year, Malfoy! Bet you couldn't wield out a charm like this with your ferret fingers!"

But Draco was not looking at the coin; he was staring at Hermione.

All of a sudden, he threw back his head and broke out into derisive laughter.

The laughter that rang in Hermione's ears hurt her terribly. She didn't know what to say. _Sorry, Draco, I'm sorry I had to do this..._ She could feel the familiar tears come back into her eyes, and she blinked them back fiercely. _I'm really sorry, okay!_

"What are you crying for?" The sneer in his voice was unmistakeable. Finally, she looked up and blinked the blurry tears away. There he was, standing there with Ron's wand pointed at him – his expression was stone-cold once again; his grey eyes were hard and menacing. But the edge of his mouth was twitching, and his fists were clenched. He wasn't just angry; there was – hurt.

"I..."

Ginny sensed that something was not very right between those two, and she pushed past Neville towards them. "There's no time for chat! We need to get back through this Veil!" She grabbed Hermione's arm, forcing the brown-haired girl to turn towards her. "Harry's in danger; he and Dumbledore are trying to destroy the first Horcrux!"

It dawned upon Hermione that Harry was not with them, but before anymore could be said, there was a huge outburst.

"What do you know about the Horcruxes!" bellowed Draco, in full fury. He immediately whipped out his wand before Ron could react, and knocked the wand out of Ron's grip. Ron swore and attempted to tackle Draco, but the blond boy had him pinned down in an instant under his boot. Hermione gasped; the rest pulled out their wands too, but Draco did not flinch. His expression was so icy-cold that Hermione felt herself shudder.

He was back under the mask again.

Ginny realised her mistake. "I mean, the Inferi will kill them before they try!" She winced as everyone looked even more terrified. "Well, Dumbledore told us about them and all..."

Draco could barely conceal his rage. But he was not looking at Ginny; he was glaring at Hermione in the most terrible way ever. "You little..."

"This is my business!" He roared, as he swung his wand towards the rest. "Try me, Weaselette. Or you, Longbottom. Or Lovegood. Or you, Whitemayer," Corrinne's rage was at tipping point. "Pathetic attempt, Weasley." Ron growled from under his shoe. "Or even you," Hermione's eyes met his, and for the first time, he really saw fear in her eyes. "_Mudblood._"

That last word seemed to drive the wedge so deep into her that she couldn't help the tears that were now falling down her cheeks fast and furiously.

"Don't – call – her – _that_!" Ron choked out, his face purple from struggling under Draco's weight.

Luna stepped forward, her wand raised, but her face a picture of serenity. "If you want to avenge your father, you'd like to know that Harry is very close to destroying the Horcrux in the basin. Should you want it to be your glory, you should hurry up and leave this place with us."

Luna's words seemed to snap Draco back to reality. His eyes swivelled towards the ground, and with a gesture, the broom was in his hand.

"Luna, what are you talking about? He's not going to destroy the Horcrux; he's going to destroy Harry!" Ron cried out, exasperated.

"I'm going alone!" Draco snarled ferociously. "You all can just stay here!"

"What?" Corrinne screamed. "We've come through this thing to save you both, and you're heading off alone? You selfish Death Eater, you're just like your father..."

"DON'T YOU DARE MENTION MY FATHER AGAIN!" Draco had completely lost it. First, it was Hermione Granger pitying him and playing up to him all this time while being a sneak; now Corrinne Whitemayer was just tearing his wounds open and showering salt over them.

"Stop screaming at her!" yelled Neville, angrily.

"You beastly, son of a..." Corrinne's red eyes flashed dangerously, her hand reaching into her robe pocket.

"Draco, you can't do this!" burst out Hermione.

There were three seconds of silence; Corrinne's hand gripped her wand.

"Draco?" Ron gasped from the ground. "Hermione, what are you..."

Immediately, Draco lifted up his foot and gave Ron a mighty kick. The redhead flew backwards into the rest, coughing and hacking. Corrinne's wand went upwards; so did Neville's. Ginny bent down to help her brother up, but Hermione was glaring at Draco very fiercely. He was pushing it too far!

"I can do anything..." Draco whispered, his eyes glinting. "I told you this before, Granger. You wanted to fall into this yourself. I told you, I'm dangerous. I will kill you if you get in my way."

Hermione was trying her best not to lose her temper. "We're all on the same route, you don't have to..."

"You and your same route!" Draco roared, his wand now directed at her. "Moralising little _Mudblood_, you and I are _NOT_ on the same route!" He felt himself boil further when she cringed at the name he used for the second time. "Especially not when there's _betrayal_ involved!"

"I didn't..." Hermione couldn't take it anyore. "Oh you selfish bastard, do you think we could really get out of here if not for all of them? You were going to turn another way if not for the screams they made! We would have to go back to destroy the first Horcrux ourselves and deal with the Inferi ourselves! Now Harry's doing the work for you! What do you mean by..."

"Potter's doing the work _for me_?" Draco snorted. "I didn't BLOODY ASK HIM TO!"

"Quit the conversation, Hermione, let me blast this jerk into oblivion!"

"Try me, Whitemayer, and I'll assure you that your final resting place will be marked West Ukraine!"

"STOP IT!" screamed Ginny. "This is not the time to be arguing about such things, HARRY'S IN DANGER! STOP BEING A PRAT, Malfoy, just figure a way to get ALL OF US out here! Like it or not, Hermione's the one who has helped you this far, so stop being so self-centred – at least get Hermione out of here as well!"

"Ginny!" Hermione gasped in disbelief.

Ginny's words were swimming in Draco's head, which was already aching from all the yelling and the wand-wielding and the confusion and anger boiling within him. _Like it or not, Hermione's the one who has helped you this far..._ Then why did she betray him? Why did she tell her bunch of friends about his pathetic story? How dare she?

But even as those thoughts raged in his mind, deep down inside, he knew that she should have told them a long time ago. Even when she was back at Hogwarts. It wasn't as if he didn't know that... he had just been convincing himself that...

In a swift movement, his wand hand came down, and he turned away from Hermione bitterly. _Bloody hell, why did I kiss her?_

Luna reached out to lower both Corrinne's and Neville's wand arms. Surprisingly, they let her.

"Our – our broom's a mess though," mumbled Neville, pointing to the broken broom that they had crashed on. "We can't all be hanging onto one broom..."

"We can all hold hands and get dragged along," said Luna, simply. Everyone except Draco stared at her.

"Wow, that's brilliant," muttered Ron, who was still very sore from being pinned to the ground by Draco Malfoy's boot. "You try doing that twice, Luna, I bet you'll scream your lungs out."

Luna's calm gaze seemed to assure Ron that she'd be perfectly stable, and he growled in response.

"Draco Malfoy, if you don't care for Harry Potter, then maybe it'd do you well to know that Hogwarts is also in danger right now!" Hermione shouted.

"Hogwarts is in danger?" Ginny gasped.

Draco slowly turned back to look at them, particularly Hermione. When their eyes met, she felt another pang of guilt. But she remained glaring at him defiantly. "We'll discuss this later, Ginny. Right now..." Her gaze turned to uncertainty as she stared at the broom in Draco's hand.

"Somebody can fit on that broom with Malfoy," said Luna, who seemed to have unofficially taken charge of the situation. "I'm the smallest actually, so..."

"I'm not having to put my arms around you while I fly, Lovegood!" snarled Draco.

"I actually meant that I can squeeze right in the front. So the one right in front of you has to be the next smallest, who is..."

"Nor Weaselette! Are you trying to get me clawed?"

Ginny rolled her eyes.

"I don't suppose Corrinne really fancies it either," said Luna, simply, and Corrinne muttered a silent thanks. "So you must take Hermione in front then."

Hermione turned her fierce glare onto Luna, but it seemed to have been completely absorbed by a vacuum around her. The blond-haired girl merely smiled serenely as she gestured towards the broom. Hermione felt like screaming, but she knew that if she delayed this any longer, they'd never get out of here, and Harry...

Draco opened his mouth to object, but found himself unable to completely reject having Hermione in front; if there was to be somebody on that broom with him, he couldn't possibly imagine anyone else. And this was despite the feeling of betrayal that was so strong he wished he could hex her there and then.

But he couldn't bring himself to.

Ron was about to argue, when Luna's gaze stopped him. Angrily, he positioned himself right behind Draco. "I'm holding onto the broom here, just in case he tries to be funny to Hermione!"

"I don't think so, Ron," muttered Neville, wincing. "You might just lose your grip on the broom if you try to whack him."

"But..."

"Malfoy, promise that you won't hurt her." The sense of urgency in Ginny's voice was evident; she was clearly agitated that they were taking so long to get out of there to help Harry.

Draco's cold grey eyes set upon Hermione's defiant brown ones. _She should stop making me feel like there's an earthquake going on in me!_ He had a good mind to be sarcastic and just dawdle, but it wasn't so much about Potter that the fact that the Horcrux he wanted to destroy was at stake. He curled his lip, and assented with a curt nod.

Before Hermione could protest, Ginny had bundled her up front with Draco behind her. Hermione glared coldly at Ginny, but the redhead ignored her and proceeded to the back. It was decided that Neville would cling onto the broom at the back, since he was the strongest (although of course, the real reason was to prevent Ron from getting overly agitated), with Corrinne and Ginny, and then lastly Ron (who had spluttered upon hearing he had to be the one dangling around the most). Luna squeezed herself right in front of Hermione. Quite unfortunately, but unsurprisingly, Draco refused to lend a stabilising hand to any of them.

As Draco was now the steering force, he had to bend forwards in order to direct the broom. If Hermione moved too front with Luna, he would have trouble balancing the broom. If he wanted his vision to be less obstructed, Hermione would have to sit back into his arms; Luna was smaller after all. But this also meant that he had to encircle his arms around Hermione to reach to the front.

Hermione realised this fact, and she grumbled a little. Luna edged forwards in anticipation, while the rest gripped onto each other's legs tightly. Seeing that Hermione was rather reluctant to lean back into him, Draco swore under his breath, then reached out with one arm to push her backwards into him. Hermione let out a gasp, but Draco refused to comment. He slipped both his arms under hers to get a good grip on the broom, and began to take off. Hermione felt a familiar lightheadedness overtake her.

"Malfoy, take your stinking hands off her!"

"Not unless you want me to drop her from a height, Weasley!" Draco sneered.

It was his first time riding a broom while having to balance so many people, and Draco was not at all pleased that it was more difficult than he expected to. In fact, it was made all the worse that Hermione Granger's bushy hair was all around the side of his face – instead of irritating him with the curls as he thought it would, it was irritating him with the fragrance. Draco swore inwardly again. It seemed even more difficult to block out all thoughts of her with constant reminders that she had snitched on him, compared to blocking his mind from the Dark Lord.

Staring at the glowing white Veil before him, he focused all his attention ahead, and zoomed through the Veil.

"AAHHHHHHHH!"

-.-.-.-.-.-

"No, no... _please stop_!" Dumbledore's moaning voice was getting weaker. His pathetic cries made Harry shudder with fear and pain, as he tipped the pitcher towards Dumbledore's mouth for the fifth time. "I'm sorry, Professor, you have to drink this! You told me we can't stop!"

The Headmaster gurgled as Harry forced the liquid into his mouth, babbling like a baby afterwards. His hair and beard were all wild and straggly, his entire body was shaking. Harry felt tears sting his eyes, but he ran to dip the pitcher into the liquid once again. _Just a few more times, Professor!_

The Inferi were poised at the edge of the platform. Harry knew that once he attempted to retrieve the locket, they would all pounce on him. They had no eyes, but Harry felt as if they were all concentrating on his every movement. His limbs felt like jelly as he made his way back to a shivering Dumbledore, who was now backing away from Harry.

"Don't make me drink it!" Dumbledore begged, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Harry heard a few shouts, and saw that there was a stream of Inferi floating towards some kind of light source. _Where Lupin, Ron, and all of them are!_ But Dumbledore had told him to focus on the task at hand; the Order members would handle the Inferi.

Just as Harry managed to grab hold of Dumbledore's cloak to force down the next gulp of liquid, the light source in the distance suddenly became an explosive ball of fire, causing all the Inferi to turn their heads towards the light. Before Harry could react, there was a loud screeching noise, that seemed to come collectively from the Inferi.

Immediately, the Inferi began to scramble away – some of them towards Harry and Dumbledore. Harry yelled as one of them began to tug at his legs, and another was scrabbling at Dumbledore's.

"_STUPEFY! IMPEDIMENTA!_" Harry screamed, waving his wand about. But even as the Inferi nearest to him got blasted away, there were more advancing towards him. Harry paled as one of them extended its bony, translucent arms towards him, as if about to strangle him.

Suddenly, there was a loud yell.

"DUCK, HARRY!"

Harry immediately ducked; a huge ball of fire came hurtling towards the Inferi, causing them to scatter away from the platform. In the recesses of his mind, Harry seemed to recall Dumbledore telling him before that Wentervale used fire to scare away the Inferi. But he had no idea how to wield a fire charm, and it was best that he didn't try anything funny. It was probably better that Moody was the one controlling the fire, which was licking away at all the Inferi.

Dumbledore moaned and groaned; he nearly rolled into the water, but Harry grabbed him and lugged him away from the rippling water, which was being disturbed by all the Inferi submerging back underwater. Quickly, Harry ran towards the basin again to refill the pitcher. Dumbledore screamed for the umpteenth time, but his screams were drowned by the raging fire, as Harry forced the liquid down his throat. Finally, when Harry ran back to the basin, the liquid was all gone. There was only the locket left.

As Moody started to reduce the intensity of the fire, Harry picked up the locket and stared hard at it. The curved snake that formed the unmistakeable initial of Salazar Slytherin seemed to hiss at him, and he felt as if it was speaking to him. He closed his eyes and tried to listen to the hissing.

"Harry..." Dumbledore's weak voice called out, but Harry could not hear him. The voice of the snake seemed to be enveloping his mind. His fingers unconsciously moved towards the clasp of the locket.

_Open... open me to see the secrets... my secrets..._

"POTTER!" A huge roar jerked Harry out of his trance. Harry stared at the locket in horror; the hissing had whispered to him to reveal its 'secrets'. Should he really do it?

"Give me the blasted thing in your hand, Potter," snarled Draco, as he appeared in the distance behind Moody, who had now simmered the flames, leaving only bits of fire upon certain parts of the water. "It's not for you."

"Where's Hermione?" demanded Harry, snapping back to reality as he saw the familiar mop of blond that he had come to associate with nothing good.

Hermione appeared from behind Draco, shaken by all the action that had just happened. Not to mention that Draco had practically been hugging her on the broom one moment, and the next he was acting like she was his biggest enemy again. But this was not the time to think about that. Harry was safe; she gave him a small smile to express her relief.

Harry himself heaved a huge sigh of relief upon seeing his best friend once again, and Ron appeared with Ginny, Luna, Neville and Corrinne, all sporting different degrees of dishevelledness.

"Screw your flying skills, Malfoy!" yelled Ron, rudely.

"This is not the time for your pathetic complaints, Weasley," said Draco, coldly. His piercing gaze was fixed on Harry, then followed by the locket in his hand. "Give. Me. That. Locket. Potter."

"Why should I? You're just going to return it to Voldemort!" Harry held the locket protectively.

"You were going to open it," Draco's eyes gleamed. "You _don't_ want to open it."

"Why not?" asked Harry, defensively, even though he was sorely tempted to do so.

"Give – it to Draco..." whispered Dumbledore, weakly.

"Professor!" Harry exclaimed, angrily. "He's a Death Eater!"

"_ACCIO –_ "

"_EXPELLIARMUS!_"

Draco's wand flew out of his hand, and into Harry's. Rage was barely concealed on Draco's face. "Trying out your trademark spell, aren't we, Potter?"

"Harry, you can't open the locket!" Hermione gasped, weakly, realising why Draco was so adamant that Harry did not do so. "You'll release the soul of Tom Riddle!"

Harry stared at Hermione in disbelief. "What?"

"The Horcrux contains a soul bit of Voldemort; Dra – Malfoy and I destroyed one just now," Hermione gestured to the Hufflepuff cup that was still in Draco's hands even after all the flying he had done with so many of them hanging off the broom. "And it was released upon orders! Don't let it eat into your soul, Harry!"

Draco felt something rise in him when Hermione had reverted back to calling him 'Malfoy', and snarled, "GIVE IT TO ME, POTTER!"

"You destroyed the Horcrux?" Harry looked at Draco incredulously. "You?"

Draco didn't know whether he should just drop the act and follow with what Hermione Granger and that old fogey Dumbledore must have told everyone, or he should continue trying for that one chance to gain that little bit of favour with the Dark Lord. Did he have a chance? After all, he had exposed Rookwood. Granger also said that she was the one who stabbed the Horcrux. He hadn't done anything except confront Wentervale, and later Rookwood. How could he be considered traitorous?

But deep down, Draco knew that it was really, truly over. The Dark Lord wouldn't tolerate his underlings knowing more than they shouldn't. Even if he had done the Dark Lord a service by exposing Rookwood, he had certainly done a disservice by allowing the Horcrux to be destroyed. Even with his Occlumency skills, Draco knew it was impossible to hide from the Dark Lord. The Dementor that had witnessed everything would tell tales the way Draco knew to be the truth, but far from what he was hoping to explain it to be.

Hermione brought out the basilisk fang from the pouch at her side. "Harry, do you remember this? You used one of these to stab Tom Riddle's diary, to destroy the first Horcrux! You have to hand it over before the thing eats into you, so that I can destroy it!"

"I'll destroy it!" cried Harry, and he stepped back into the boat that was floating by the platform.

"Take Professor Dumbledore with you!" Hermione was alarmed that Harry seemed to neglect the Headmaster completely.

Harry blinked and looked back at the limp figure of Dumbledore. Then he looked back at the locket in his hand. The hissing was resuming.

_Open... open me..._

Lupin brushed past the students and immediately wielded his wand to conjure another boat. Jumping into it, he quickly moved towards Dumbledore. Harry, seeing that his former professor was going to do the rescue duty instead, eagerly moved the boat back to where the rest were. As Lupin helped Dumbledore into the boat, Harry jumped out of his and ran towards Hermione, his hand outstretched for the basilisk fang.

Hermione refused to give it to him; she took a step back.

"Hermione, what are you doing!" Ginny yelled in frustration.

"Hermione, stop wasting time!" Corrinne shouted. "Whose side are you –" And Neville tugged at her robes urgently to shut her up.

"Granger, just give it to him!" growled Draco, tired from all the commotion.

"No, look at him," Hermione whispered. "He's being possessed by that locket!"

"Give the fang to me!" Harry shouted.

"No, you'll use it to pry open the locket instead!" shrieked Hermione.

Harry's eyes widened in shock, then they began to narrow. "Hermione, you have to give it to me. I'm sorry that I made you do so many things that you didn't like... I'm sorry that I made you go near Draco Malfoy when he was so horrid to you and made you cry..."

Hermione gasped, and Draco stared at her incredulously.

"_He_ made _you_ come near _me_?"

It was so surreal... but yet, he had pre-empted it, hadn't he? He had always accused her of sympathising with him as though he was so pathetic, before she'd go run off to tell Potter and Weasley. Why was he so horribly _disappointed_? So horribly... _betrayed_?

"Shut up, Harry!" Hermione was in a frenzy. "You don't know what you're talking about!"

Harry pretended to look confused. "But you yourself said he called you a Mudblood and everything. And Ron told me to stop feeling guilty that I made you spy on Malfoy because you were intelligent enough to deal with things..."

"_Harry!_" Hermione was desperate, not only because Harry's eyes were glazing over with a rather insane look, but that Draco was looking none the better. "This is not the time to..."

Ron, despite all his earlier misgivings towards Malfoy, could tell that his best friend was not in the right frame of mind. Immediately, he stepped forward to try to restrain Harry. "Mate, you've got to get a grip! Malfoy's here, you can't possibly be..."

"Enough!" yelled Harry, nearly deafening Ron as he tried to shake the red-haired boy off him. "I've had enough! Malfoy's a bloody Death Eater, he's not going to help us kill Voldemort! I AM! I'm the CHOSEN ONE! LET ME GO, RON! Hermione doesn't need to do this stupid job anymore, she doesn't need to get close to Malfoy to spy on him anymore, it's too dangerous! Then she won't need to leave stupid cryptic notes about seven cuts across V and a note from Malfoy senior, and..."

Draco's agitation had completely boiled over. He turned the most scathing of looks onto Hermione, but no words could come out from his mouth.

"HARRY!" screamed Hermione, completely wild with horror. "STOP IT! _ACCIO_ – "

With a howl, Harry broke free of Ron's grip and charged towards Hermione. Before he could knock her over, somebody stepped in and shoved him away. Harry glared at the intruder angrily – Draco Malfoy was standing there, his eyes full of hatred and rage.

"Move it, Malfoy," said Harry, dangerously.

"Sod off, Potter," said Draco, thinly. "And hand over that locket. And my wand."

"To give back to your master, Draco?" Harry held out the locket in his hand, daring Draco to snatch it. Immediately, Draco responded by grabbing, but Harry snatched back his hand, smirking. Then he placed his fingers against the clasp of the locket. "I don't think so..." Suddenly, Harry began to whisper something in a hissing voice, and slowly, an Inferi began to creep out of the water towards Draco's legs. Draco leapt forward, but the Inferi had latched onto his trouser leg. Hermione immediately pulled out her wand to repel the Inferi, but it reached out to grab _her_ leg as well, causing her to scream.

Before Draco or the others could react, Moody and Tonks pointed their wands towards Harry, and in a flash, the bespectacled boy was sent flying against the wall. Ginny screamed; Hermione gasped; Ron yelled. The Inferi released Draco and Hermione's legs and dived back into the water; the locket and Draco's wand flew out of Harry's hands.

"NOOOOO!" A raw cry issued from Harry, before it was abruptly terminated with a loud thud against the wall.

"HARRY!" Ginny ran towards the slumped figure, and Ron dashed over as well. Hermione merely stood rooted to the spot, shivering while she stared at the water where the Inferi had dived back into.

Draco reached out to nick his wand; Moody caught the locket in a bottle that he had magically produced. Just as the locket dropped into the bottle, Lupin and Dumbledore had sailed back to them. The Headmaster was now very weak and wheezing badly, and he looked semi-conscious.

"We have to take him back now," said Lupin, grimly. "Hermione, destroy that locket please!"

The sense of urgency in Lupin's voice prompted Hermione to rush forward. But just as she raised the basilisk fang above the locket, she looked back at Draco.

The Slytherin lifted up his tousled blond head, but in his eyes was such a poisonous look that her heart ached terribly. She knew that he had just started to trust her, and it must have all fallen apart so horribly. Trying to catch her breath, she turned to a dazed Harry, who was being helped up by Ron and Ginny.

"Harry," she called out, weakly. "I think you should do the honour..."

Harry groaned as he stumbled over, his arms around Ron and Ginny. He mumbled an incoherent apology as he faced Hermione, but it was only when the basilisk fang was in his hand that he finally gained a little more strength. Glaring at the locket with all the hatred that he could summon, he whispered,

"Die, you foul creature...", before he reached in and pierced the Horcrux with all his might.

A piercing shriek filled the air; all of them had to cover their ears, as the basilisk fang was splattered with more of the silver liquid that had oozed out of each Horcrux. A blinding light – shut eyes – and when the light had receded, the cracked locket lay pathetically in Moody's bottle.

Moody produced a cork and shut it tightly. Everyone held their breath as they watched him. Finally, he silently motioned for everyone to follow him.

Draco didn't know why he didn't feel exactly happy when Potter had stabbed the locket. He felt himself deflate with the liquid that oozed out of the locket. He had seen the locket as it lay in Moody's bottle; the ornate 'S' that was carved in the shape of a serpent. No doubt the locket was property of Salazar Slytherin's. There were four more Horcruxes to deal with, out of which two were still unknown. His head was throbbing tremendously, and he felt his limbs wobble as he attempted to follow Moody out of the cave. All that had happened was suddenly too much for him to handle, and he still had to block his mind while everyone else was there. He thought he saw Dumbledore nod at him slightly as the old man was helped along by Lupin, but he merely returned an angry scowl. Now, he was too tired to think any further. There was such a fine line between the two sides, and he was sitting right in the middle, and paying for being in no man's land. He gritted his teeth and walked, trying to ignore the relentless pounding inside his head.

As for Hermione, it felt like a dream. The way everything had happened so fast. Even though it had been ages since she had first stepped into this damp cave, now that she was walking out of it, it was as if all the adventure had been completely surreal. But even then, even as Harry slowly pushed the stained basilisk fang back into the pouch that hung by her side, even as Ginny reached out to steady her with a hand as she trudged on, she was feeling worse than ever.

Everything was swinging back and forth like a pendulum, but at the same time, less predictable than its rhythm. One moment, she and Draco Malfoy were enemies by default of being on opposing sides, the next moment, she was helping him. One moment he was sneering and smirking at her for seemingly doing things without her friends knowing, the next moment she was exposed as to having really sneaked out information about him. Even when there were so many things that she could have told Harry and Ron, but she never did.

And one moment they were kissing like the most passionate of lovers, the next – they were avoiding each other like the plague.

Or at least, in Draco's eyes, there was a bitter hatred burning so fiercely in them that she hadn't the faintest idea what it would take to extinguish it.


	26. Back at Hogwarts

**Disclaimer:** Any mention of Harry Potter and all that are related in my story are the intellectual property of Miss Rowling. She just didn't think of using one of Ukraine's caves as a source of inspiration ;)

**A/N:** Can't express how grateful I am to my reviewers, please do continue to drop notes so I know what's going right or wrong. I hope you guys are enjoying this as much as I am (: Well so finally, after all that swooping around on brooms, running about in mysterious endless caves, stabbing Horcruxes with basilisk fangs, the action tones down a little!

... or does it? ;)

* * *

The next hour or so went by in a blur for Hermione. All she knew was that they had come out of the cave into the damp spray of the sea; she barely remembered a familiar brilliant plume of orange-red that came swooping towards them, before they were plunged into the horrible sucking tunnel of darkness. When she opened her eyes to steady herself, they were back in Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore, who was miraculously strengthened once again, was talking to the rest of them, but she couldn't hear anything. She blindly turned to follow Harry and Ron, but somebody grabbed her arm and tugged her back roughly.

"Didn't you hear?" An angry voice hissed at her ear. "He said to stay!"

She looked at the owner of the voice, and stared blankly. His grey eyes were fierce, but at the same time, there were too many other emotions within that she felt weary to decipher. She tore her gaze away from him, and looked back at the Headmaster, who had settled comfortably into his chair.

The person beside her was trembling. And she knew it wasn't just because it had been cold in the cave.

"I owe you an apology, Draco," said Dumbledore, quietly.

Hermione could feel the trembles of the boy beside her escalate into a violent shudder. She let her gaze drop to the carpeted floor. She really was too tired to think.

"Don't. Bother." The gritted voice was full of fury.

"I shall not explain further. But before I request that the two of you tell me your story, please let me enlighten you to the fact..." Dumbledore stood up to point at some black shards at the corner of his table. "That I have destroyed Marvolo Gaunt's ring."

"Marvolo Gaunt's ring?" Hermione heard the incredulity in Draco Malfoy's voice.

"Tom Riddle's family heirloom. He had worn it for a long time, before deciding to use it as a Horcrux. Fearing that it may be vulnerable on his finger, he then discarded it in the Gaunt shack, near his home. My sources led me there, and it has been destroyed with Godric Gryffindor's sword," said Dumbledore, calmly.

_Ring of truth_, thought Hermione. _But what was the truth?_

There was a sharp intake of breath from Draco, presumably of relief.

"In order to create this Horcrux, he had killed his father."

Now there were two audible gasps.

"A very dark truth, indeed," said Dumbledore, grimly. "Now Draco, is that Helga Hufflepuff's cup I see dangling from your fingers?"

It seemed that Draco had forgotten about it, as he reluctantly handed over the cup to Dumbledore. But Dumbledore shook his head. "I believe that you will keep it where it belongs, Draco."

"Where _does_ it belong?" Draco looked annoyed.

"A place where you will keep things in hope to never find it again."

At this, Hermione's mind cleared a little. She opened her mouth, but Draco turned a very fierce gaze onto her. Suddenly, she understood. He didn't want any more interference from anybody. Definitely not Dumbledore.

_Am I included?_

"Who did he kill for this?" Draco demanded.

Dumbledore looked at him intently. "The last we knew of this cup was that it was a relic, along with Salazar Slytherin's locket, that had been passed down to one of Hufflepuff's descendants, Hepzibah Smith. She kept an odds-and-ends shop in Knockturn Alley, and one day, she was mysteriously killed, and the relics lost. It would have been quite hard to link the disappearance of the relics along with Hepzibah Smith's murder to Voldemort, given that any thief could have accomplished this. Some other murder must have been committed to create another Horcrux out of one of the two relics, but I would not have any idea."

Draco maintained the haughty look, careful not to let any emotion slip.

"So yes please, Draco, your tale."

"I'm too tired to tell it now," snapped Draco. "And I think Granger's going to faint if we stand here any longer."

Dumbledore did not miss a beat. "Of course. How discourteous of me," He waved his hand towards the side of his office, where a door Hermione never knew existed was. "Please have your rest. I would like the two of you to stay here for the moment, as it is unwise to let you go back to your dormitories now, if you understand."

Draco made a growling noise, before he stomped off towards the door. Hermione followed suit, but not before she gave Dumbledore a weary look. He sighed a little, before he waved her towards the room.

There were two large beds inside the room, one green and one maroon. Naturally, Draco dove under the green covers and rolled away from Hermione's gaze. Weakly, she sank into her maroon bed and lay there staring at the ceiling.

"Draco..."

"Shut up." The curt reply came.

She dared not say more. Instead, sleep overwhelmed her, and she fell into a deep, but fitful sleep.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Astoria Greengrass sat upright on her bed, fuming. She clutched at the emptiness that was her neck, and felt her knuckles tense terribly. When Grandma Lily had left, she had tried to look as if nothing was wrong. But Astoria was astute enough to know that Draco Malfoy had clearly exposed her grandmother's identity, and sooner or later, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would come after their family. He would eliminate every part of their family tree for having been associated with a traitor like Maldash Wentervale.

Professor Snape must have been in cahoots with his favourite pupil. How else would he have allowed Draco to speak alone with Grandma Lily after being asked to help protect the Greengrass girls against potential threats! Astoria quivered to think that her grandmother had placed her trust in the wrong person.

She really dreaded going to sleep. One, she knew she would sink into the same frightening nightmare of her entire family being brutally murdered by Death Eaters. Two, she felt as though if she did survive that nightmare, she might wake up to the same fate. The more she thought about it, the more frightened she became. At first, she had just felt very suspicious about how the pendants had been nicked. But when the scale of the danger hit her, it was bone-chilling.

Astoria cast her gaze across the room to where her sister was sound asleep. _Daph, do you know that this might be your last night in Hogwarts?_ She could feel her knees trembling under the sheets as she drew herself together. The anger was ebbing away, and being replaced by a dreadful sense of anxiety and fear. She could recall the sinister image of the slithering serpent around the dark skull on Draco Malfoy's arm...

The haunting voice of her grandmother came back to her. The way she sang words in front of Professor Snape and Draco Malfoy that didn't make any sense to her. Despite Astoria asking multiple times what it was, Grandma Lily had just smiled without answering. She could tell that Draco Malfoy had looked rather mesmerised at that point in time, so he must have understood, but to her complete frustration, Astoria knew nothing. Even though her grandmother had assured her that Draco Malfoy would not hurt them, but Astoria felt as if someone else would. And it would be all because of Draco Malfoy.

But was it really...

Exhausted from thinking and worrying, she buried her head in her arms and sobbed quietly.

At the other end of the room, a pair of eyes peeked out from behind covers, watching her.

-.-.-.-.-.-

"I don't understand why we can't all just skip classes like Hermione and listen to Dumbledore explain everything!" grumbled Ron, moodily, as they sank into their seats for Defence Against the Dark Arts the next morning. "And she's the one who likes classes! I don't! And not when I haven't slept the night before!"

"Ron, this really isn't the time to be sulking..." began Harry, but Ron cut in.

"Okay, then how about the fact that she's in Dumbledore's office with Malfoy who just bloody wanted to scram the moment he saw us, leaving us all in that stupid damp cave?"

Harry motioned for him to lower his voice, then sighed. "Yes Ron, you've been on that since we've returned to Hogwarts, but Dumbledore is there." He winced. "Honestly, even though I really really regret making Hermione do this, you can't deny that it's brought out the matter of the Horcruxes..."

"Bull," muttered Ron, rudely. Just at that moment, Pansy Parkinson walked past them. Harry couldn't help noticing that for the past few weeks, Pansy hadn't been hanging around any of the Slytherin girls, but had been mostly about with Blaise Zabini. He secretly wondered if they were dating. But he couldn't think anymore, because she had turned and looked back, her eyes narrowing at them.

"Back off, Parkinson," growled Ron. "Just because darling Draco isn't around doesn't mean we kidnapped him."

"_Where is he?_" hissed Pansy, her face twitching with anger. "Granger isn't here herself, is she?"

"Why do you keep putting the two of them together? Hermione's just having a really bad headache," replied Harry, wearily. He turned away from Pansy. "You heard Ron. Don't come blaming Malfoy's disappearance on us. He might be on some _really_ important mission that he couldn't let his cronies know."

Ron stifled a guffaw; Pansy turned red and glared at them suspiciously, before she stalked off to sit beside Blaise, who was giving them an equally distrustful look. Ron snorted as he caught their eyes, then turned to face Harry. Behind them, the buzz from the Slytherins was rather loud, so Harry couldn't help but tilt his head to the side to look at them. When a couple of them saw his inquisitive look, they whispered to the rest and the noise died down a little. Harry frowned.

Suddenly, there was a loud slam of the door, and everyone looked up, expecting the cold face of Severus Snape to appear. Instead, there was no one – visible, at least. There was a little clearing of the throat from somewhere, and all the students stared at the emptiness in front of them in confusion.

"Er-herm. _Here_."

Harry leaned to the side of the desk, only to see the diminutive Professor Flitwick, tapping his foot impatiently with an annoyed expression. Clearly, he must have been disrupted from his class in order to deliver whatever message he was about to deliver. There were light choruses of "oh, there he is...", and Professor Flitwick cleared his throat for the third time.

When the class fell silent, he spoke.

"I am here to inform you that Professor Snape is unable to conduct lessons for today. But Professor McGonagall has remembered assigning all of you extra Transfiguration homework – every house has got it, so she would like to request that you use the time to finish it up in class."

There was a rather strange mix of groans and gasps, but Professor Flitwick wasted no time in listening to it. He was out of the room in seconds, and the class began to chatter furiously with all kinds of conspiracy theories.

"Snape's _absent_?" Ron rounded on Harry, incredulously. "That's a historic first!"

Harry frowned. "This can't be anything good. Do you think he's snitching to Voldemort about..."

"_Us?_" Ron's eyes widened.

"Well, he can't exactly snitch about the Order. But he can snitch about Malfoy. And Hermione will just simply get implicated!" Alarm bells started ringing in Harry's head. "Dumbledore told him that the Order was going to find the both of them – surely he'd know what they were up to!"

"What are we waiting for?" Ron whispered, urgently. "Let's go to Dumbledore!"

Harry was about to protest, but then Ron looked so flustered that he relented, and Neville and Corrinne were looking rather glum and weary at the other corner of the class. Something rose in him. With a little wave, he caught the attention of both of them, and jerked his thumb towards the door. Quickly, they leapt out of their seats and headed for the door.

"Hey, where'd you think you people er going, eh? Yer not just skipping class cos yer Harry Potter!" Seamus Finnigan's indignant voice rose from the class.

"Later, Seamus, and the prefects can deduct points if they want, but if I don't do this now, I'm not Harry Potter!" Harry retorted, and the four of them sped out of class.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Hermione groaned as she attempted to push away her covers. Her head was spinning and she felt extremely groggy. It was as if she had downed an entire bottle of Firewhiskey; her whole body was feverishly hot, and everything in front of her was blur – only a shade of maroon, perhaps. She vaguely remembered tumbling into the soft bed, but it hadn't done much to ease her tensed muscles.

As she stretched, she caught sight of a blurry green image at her side. Blinking hard, she saw Draco tucked under the green covers. But his forehead was creased, and his eyebrows were heavily knotted together. Hermione looked at him quizzically as she leaned forward. There were beads of perspiration dotting his face, and his lips were pale and quivering. Startled, she almost wanted to reach out to touch his face, to ease the lines. But she held back in time.

The look in his eyes... she could still remember how they burned a hole in her.

The feverish feeling seemed to intensify, and she gripped her burning forehead with her hand. Weakly, she tried to get up from the bed.

"Don't... don't do this..." A raspy voice issued from Draco. It was almost like – a whimper.

"Don't do this to me... I don't want..."

He must be dreaming of Voldemort, Hermione thought with a pang of ache in her heart. All the possible tortures, punishments that could possibly ensue after the Dementor made its report.

She managed to steady her legs a bit, but one step further, and she felt all wobbly again.

"Don't do this to me... don't lie to me..."

She felt her breath constrict in her throat, as she fell backwards into the bed.

_Don't lie to me..._

That was most certainly not for Voldemort. At least, she thought so.

"Leave me alone..." His rasps died away into heavy breaths, which became normal puffs in a minute.

Hermione just sat on her bed, shell-shocked.

Before she could collect her wits again, there was a light rapping on the door. Hermione jumped, partly also due to the fact that the green bed started to creak, and she realised that the little sound had jerked Draco awake from his slumber. His blond fringe flopped over messily, and plastered to his sweaty face. Refusing to look at Hermione, Draco clambered out of his sheets, only to groan with frustration as he, too, gripped his forehead.

Hermione bit her lip, got up, and opened the door. Professor Dumbledore looked at them with a worried expression, and then beckoned somebody from behind to come in. It was Madam Pomfrey. Hermione felt rather thankful upon seeing the white-clad lady, as if she was an angel. On the contrary, Draco gave a repressive snarl as he saw her.

"I thought you might be a bit more appreciative, Mr Malfoy, that I am going to help bring that burning fever of yours down," snapped Madam Pomfrey, bustling in with a basin and a few towels. "A little Muggle method will help; the cooling spells will make you want to jump out of bed and walk around, which is what I will really not recommend."

"_Muggle!_" Draco said it with such repulsion that Hermione cringed.

Madam Pomfrey ignored him, and proceeded to squeeze a few towels vigorously. With a flick of her wand, Hermione and Draco were pushed back to their beds, groaning. The towels were levitated over their heads, and Hermione could feel the soothing effect of the cold and wet cloth immediately. She almost let out a sigh of thankfulness.

Dumbledore, who was still standing by the door, looked at them with such gravity that Hermione was a little puzzled.

"Professor?"

"Yes, Hermione?" said Dumbledore, kindly.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm afraid not very so." Dumbledore smiled, but he looked a little haggard. Maybe it was the liquid that Harry made him drink, Hermione thought with a little shudder. The pathetic way in which the Headmaster had been reduced to was still etched in her mind. "But please do not worry unduly. Once the two of you have recovered, I would be really interested to listen to your tale."

Draco made a rude noise, and Hermione instinctively gave him a rather moralising glare. But her look faltered when he met her eyes with coldness. She looked away again. When Madam Pomfrey exited the room, and Dumbledore closed the door, she found herself drifting off to sleep once again.

The next time she woke up, which she hadn't any idea how much time had elapsed, she found the splitting headache gone. Her vision was also relatively clear, only that she felt a little weak. Clambering out of bed, she saw that Draco looked a lot better as well. In fact, he was sleeping so soundly that he was snoring a little. Suppressing a giggle, she opened the door to walk into Dumbledore's office.

The Headmaster was leaning back on his chair with a rather strained look on his face. Hermione was startled to see how worried he looked. Usually, he was quite unruffled by any problem.

"Professor, are you..."

"Oh, Hermione!" Dumbledore turned around to face her, the usual smile breaking out on his face. "I didn't know you were awake. You are well?"

"Quite fine, Professor. Erm... is anything the matter?"

"Ever the perceptive child you are, Hermione. But we must wait for Draco to be awake. I would like to hear the story from both of you at the same time."

"Are Harry and Ron..."

Dumbledore pursed up his lips. "They are fine, Hermione."

Hermione visibly relaxed, and took a seat. Dumbledore eyed her thoughtfully for a while, then towards the door of the room he had opened for them. The memory of a flustered bunch of students bursting into his office the second time in less than two days made him frown. He thought it was best not to let Hermione know that her two best friends, along with Neville Longbottom and Corrinne Whitemayer, had once again interrupted his thoughts with news that he was already aware of.

_These children..._ He pushed up his half-moon spectacles.

There was a creak, and Hermione and Dumbledore turned to see Draco stumbling out, looking rather dishevelled. Hermione frowned as to how he could possibly still look relatively – she felt herself flush thinking about it, and decided to look away again hurriedly.

"I have nothing to say," said Draco, flatly.

"But I have things to ask which you have answers to," said Dumbledore, quietly. "Let me cut to the chase, Draco. I assume the two of you have met Maldash Wentervale before his death."

Hermione remembered how Wentervale burst into a million light pieces, closed her eyes, and nodded.

"And I assume he gave you the clue to Helga Hufflepuff's cup."

"No, he didn't," snapped Draco, but he refused to elaborate. Dumbledore sighed, and then nodded understandingly. "Very well. But you have at least found out the true story behind your father's death, am I right?"

Draco clammed up, his eyes flaring.

"And I am sure that there was some kind of adventure getting to the cup," Dumbledore said. He turned to look at Hermione. "Since Draco is rather unwilling to share with me, will you?"

Hermione glanced sideways at Draco. He was not looking at her. Rather, his fists were clenched.

Whose side was she on?

"Hermione, you must understand that this information is very important for the Order. It is crucial to know what other methods besides the Inferi that Lord Voldemort put in place to prevent people from attacking his Horcrux."

"Don't you speak his name!" hissed Draco, vehemently.

Instead of allowing Hermione time to speak, Dumbledore looked back at Draco with a rather weak smile. "Tell me, Draco, why won't you speak the name? Is it because you genuinely revere the name of this creature? Or that you are so revolted by his actions that you refuse to acknowledge his presence?"

The look Draco was giving Dumbledore was so smouldering that Hermione half-thought he would set the Headmaster on fire.

But it turned out worse. Draco had pulled out his wand.

Startled, Hermione grabbed hers and pointed at Draco. "Put that down!"

"Shut up, Granger!" He barked, icily. "Don't tell me what to do, you two-faced mud-"

She blanched. He uttered a swear word under his breath in place of completing the insult, wand still pointing at Dumbledore.

She felt sick to the stomach.

Dumbledore merely looked calmly at Draco. "And what is this for? To fulfill your duty, or to shut me up?"

"Don't think you're so clever, Albus Dumbledore." Draco sneered. "You don't know me at all. Yes, I wanted to find out the truth behind my father's death, and avenge his death. But I will do anything to avenge his death, including rising to the top of the pack. And what would I not do just to get there? You are but a pawn in my game!"

"No, you're a pawn in his game." Dumbledore sighed again. "Draco..."

Hermione stared at Draco Malfoy. He was uttering a bunch of lies. He knew very well that he would have no place back in the Death-Eaters once that Dementor took tales back to Voldemort.

_But Dumbledore doesn't know that!_ She had destroyed the cup, and Harry, the locket. None of this was done by Draco. And he had appeared to be siding Voldemort when asking Harry to hand over the locket.

She stood there, stricken. Should she reveal the truth?

But what was he doing this for? In the long tension-laden silence, so many thoughts were running through her head. He wanted Dumbledore to believe that he would go back to the Death Eaters, he wanted Dumbledore to stay away from what he was doing. He wanted to hunt for his revenge in his own way, and wouldn't stop at anything. He was furious that Dumbledore and Hermione had allowed for other people to come into his quest, and that Harry had destroyed one of the Horcruxes. Hermione wasn't sure whether this was a case of pride, or that he was angry at being exposed to be on the same side as the Order, or whatever other reason there could be.

Draco was about to open his mouth, when his wand flew out of his hand, and into Dumbledore's.

"You – !" Draco was seething with rage as he lunged forward, but an invisible force pushed him back on the ground. Hermione stifled a yelp, and looked on helplessly as he was pinned to the ground, struggling.

"Get – it – off – me!" He raged, squirming under the invisible pressure.

Dumbledore looked at him with a grave expression. "I may be weakened, but there are many more weak points about you than you think you have, Draco. One of them is that you are incapable of killing somebody you know who doesn't deserve to be killed." And then he suddenly looked at Hermione again. She gasped softly.

Draco stopped squirming, and he followed Dumbledore's gaze to Hermione. An incredulous look formed on his face, then it was replaced by fury again, and then a stony expression. At this rate, thought Hermione, his eyes would become as red as Corrinne's (she had a theory that the colour of Corrinne's eyes was probably due to all the pent-up frustrations within her that made her blood boil to her eyes).

Finally, the invisible force was lifted off Draco, and he immediately got to his feet, brushing himself down with as much dignity as he could manage. Then he made to leave the office. However, when he reached the door, Dumbledore spoke once again.

"Before you go, I have something to tell the both of you."

Draco spun back, his eyes now stone-cold, and his jaw was set hard and firm. Hermione dared not look at him for more than a second, and expressed a quizzical look at Dumbledore.

"There have been two people missing from Hogwarts since the wee hours of the morning," said Dumbledore, very gravely. He looked a lot older, his usual imposing figure sagging a little. "And they are both from your House, Draco."

Hermione gasped in shock. Draco's eyes narrowed at the Headmaster.

"The news has spread around the school already, and many are speculating that it is the work of the Death Eaters. We must be more vigilant than ever, and the wrath of Voldemort is greater than ever as well, given that two of his Horcruxes have been destroyed within a night."

Hermione felt her entire body go rigid. _And they know that another Horcrux is within the halls of Hogwarts._

"Even if the two of you may not be willing to tell me the whole story, I must warn you that this concerns the entire school population and not just an individual's quest." Dumbledore was obviously referring to Draco. "So don't be too resistant towards others, because they might be just the people you need to work things out."

Draco didn't wait to hear anymore; he stalked out of the office.

Hermione made to follow him, but her legs were heavy. As she reached the door, she turned around to look at Dumbledore.

"Professor..."

"Have you decided to tell me?"

Hermione hung her head. "I'm sorry."

"My dear, don't be," said Dumbledore, kindly. "You have been incredibly brave and resourceful – I am proud to have you as a student in my school."

Hermione felt something swell up in her; she looked at the Headmaster once again through blurry eyes.

"A very heavy weight is pressed onto your shoulders." Dumbledore took off his spectacles, and massaged the bridge of his nose, before he opened his eyes to look at her again. "Now it's no longer about Harry asking you to do this for him. I'm sure you are aware of how great this responsibility is. But at the same time, Hermione..." He seemed to stare right through her, making her feel extremely vulnerable. "You have your own thoughts, your own emotions, and your own way of handling things."

There was something in his voice that made Hermione look at him in wonder.

"You care for Draco, do you not?"

She opened her mouth to object immediately, but she couldn't say it.

Dumbledore nodded and gestured for her to leave.

Hermione walked out of the office in a cloud of mixed emotions. Outside, leaning against the wall, was Draco Malfoy.

"What are you still doing here?" She found herself asking him, even though she really didn't want to talk to him.

He made no response. His eyes were locked onto her, as if he was trying to figure her out.

"Stop looking at me like that," she whispered, and made to walk away.

She was about to break into a run, when he spoke.

"Granger, you're not stupid, you know what is happening in Hogwarts." Draco's cold voice hurt her ears. "You know why they've taken those two away."

She looked back in his eyes – those grey orbs that made her shudder with fear when they were raging with fire, brim with warmth when they shone, and caused her heart to ache when they were stone-cold. But this time, none of those gazes, not even the one that she couldn't decipher, was in his eyes. Instead, a look of desperation and frustration was there.

Yes, she knew. And now they had to find a way to protect the school, protect those two, and destroy the diadem in the Room of Requirement – all at one go.

_Except..._ Hermione found it painful to stare into his eyes any longer, instead gazing at the ground.

"I just accosted a first-year when I came out," said Draco, thickly, as if it was intensely stressful to speak to her. "To find out who's been missing."

At that, her head snapped up to face him.

"Who?"

"It's Astoria Greengrass – and Snape."


	27. Disappearances and Dilemmas

**Disclaimer:** The real Horcrux story had a lot more twists and turns than mine has - I read through the whole Wiki page on Horcruxes again, and I think if I have to corroborate with everything Ms. Rowling said, it'll be a writing nightmare for me! That said, the ingenious concept of Horcruxes, and the entire background of the Harry Potter world are her property.

**A/N:** I was enjoying myself when writing bits of D/H exchange, because I could almost imagine the scene in my head when they are talking. However, at the same time, I'm a bit worried that the pace of things might make them seem a little out of character. Do let me know if I did okay (: I quite like the way this fic is going so far, even though for the next few chapters, I've been editing again and again because of various loopholes and things like that. Thanks for the reviews, they were awesome, and I really love reading all the little theories that some of you have! :D

Till then, enjoy! (:

* * *

It was late at night when Draco returned to the Slytherin common-room. Upon arrival, there was a huge buzz. But it wasn't because of him – in fact, none of them seemed to have noticed him entering the room. He didn't know whether to be annoyed because of the lack of attention, or secretly relieved that he wasn't going to have to explain much since they weren't very interested. But it turned out that his disappearance was old news, and besides, had been accounted for as a school matter by Professor Snape. Rather, the latest news was of course, the disappearance of Astoria Greengrass and Severus Snape himself.

Daphne Greengrass was seated in the middle of the commotion, sobbing uncontrollably as she wailed. "She must have been taken away by the Death Eaters!"

"Why're you so sure?" demanded Pansy, sharply. "It's not as if Astoria has done anything to annoy them, has she?"

Daphne knew better than to elaborate, and merely blew her nose loudly.

"_Draco?_" Blaise's incredulous voice rose amidst the buzz.

Suddenly, the whole room was silenced. Even Daphne forgot to sniff. Everyone turned to stare at the entrant.

"Dumbledore was interviewing me for possible further opportunities – I figure it's Head Boy," snapped Draco, obviously prepared to answer. "Anything else?"

Nobody dared say anything, although there was a look of awe on some of the lower years' faces. There was a suspicious look on Blaise's face however.

"I heard about Astoria. How did you find her missing?" Draco walked towards Daphne.

"She was missing in her bed early this morning..." Daphne burst into tears again. "And – and I thought maybe she was feeling sick or something, but she wasn't at the Hospital Wing... not anywhere else... couldn't find her..." Then suddenly her eyes widened, and she stopped sniffing. She looked back up at Draco. Her mouth opened a little, and she stared hard at him.

Draco immediately knew that she wanted to speak to him – about the pendants.

As if on cue, the sound of the Slytherin common-room door opening was heard, and everybody stared at the doorway. Professor Slughorn appeared, his face a little red and his movement a little awkward as he squeezed through the doorway for his announcement.

"I am to be your Acting Head of House while Professor Snape is uhh – away. In the meantime, please do not panic unduly. The school is trying their very best to investigate the matter, yes." Professor Slughorn looked pleased with himself for making such an important speech. Then his gaze landed upon Draco. "Oho!"

Draco gave him a rather rude glare.

Slughorn looked quite unable to say anything beyond the exclamation of surprise upon seeing Draco return, so he gave a deep gulp and hurriedly excused himself. Draco felt the mark on his arm burn a little, and he scowled deeply as the Potions professor left.

Slowly, the crowd began to disperse, and Pansy made to walk towards Draco. However, Blaise tugged at her, as he saw Draco and Daphne exchanging looks. Quickly, Draco made his way out of the common-room.

He walked all the way to the middle of the dungeon corridor till he heard the door swing open and footsteps followed. Then he turned around to meet the wary gaze of Daphne Greengrass.

"You know where my sister is?" she asked, slowly.

"No, I don't."

She looked angry. "Sure you do! You're _one of them_!"

Draco shrugged. "And why would _we_ take her?"

"You know my grandmother's identity!" Daphne cried, furiously. "You must have snitched to You-Know-Who!"

"Finally, Greengrass, some measure of intelligence in that brain of yours." Draco smirked.

"So you admit it!"

"I admit nothing," Draco replied, smoothly. "Tell me, did Astoria say anything to you the night before or anything like that?"

"No, but at least she told me what a horribly evil person you are!" Daphne spat.

"It's not my bloody fault that your grandmother's the half-sister of a Dark fugitive!" Draco shot her a piercing glare. Then he tried to calm himself down. "Did you notice anything suspicious or anything?"

Daphne debated whether to answer, as she was starting to find Draco's interrogations a little disconcerting and puzzling. It showed on her face, and Draco stared at her impatiently. "Well?"

"Pansy – " She paused, surveying Draco's expression impatiently. "Wait, why are you asking me this? Are you trying to revel in how your fellow friends did this? Or maybe you did, seeing that you've sneaked into our room before?"

"You can check with Professor Dumbledore if you like," said Draco, in a challenging tone.

Daphne still looked suspicious, but she relented. "Pansy said she woke up in the middle of the night, and the dorm door opened. But then she saw that it was just Millicent coming back to bed from sitting outside in the common-room. Millie always does that when she can't sleep. Then Pansy said she remembers looking around at all the other beds and everyone was in bed, including Ria. Nobody remembers noticing anything else. Then the next morning..." Her voice began to crack.

"Does Astoria usually go out of the dorm?"

"No, she doesn't! She never goes out at night as far as I know. And she will always wait for me to wake up so that we can have a short chat in the dorm before going out!"

Draco frowned. Then this would most certainly have to be an internal job.

Millicent had left the room and come back. She sounded the most suspicious – she could have let someone in!

But it wasn't the kidnapper who really bothered Draco; it was the fact that Astoria had been kidnapped. Nobody else knew that he had confronted Astoria about the pendants; he was sure his mind had been watertight then. Unless...

"Does anybody else know?" He shot her a sideways look.

"No!" Daphne shouted angrily, but her voice was wavering.

Draco stared at her for a while.

"Then what about Professor Snape?" Draco suddenly felt his skin turn cold and clammy upon thinking what could have possibly happened to Snape. _If he's found out, it'll be my fault!_ He cringed inwardly. "Professor Dumbledore didn't tell me anything about it, until I heard it from someone."

Daphne gave a shudder. "I don't know... we were all supposed to continue attending lessons as per normal, although I really wasn't paying attention... then during Defence class, Professor Flitwick came to announce that Professor Snape was _absent_... I mean – he never, _ever_, absents himself from any class. Then when we went to Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall was noticeably jittery. And Hagrid came in once to talk to her – we heard him mention Snape, and Professor McGonagall hurriedly shushed him. So we think something's not very right either."

Snape was definitely missing, since Dumbledore had said that there were two from his House who were. Draco felt rather uneasy thinking about possibilities. His brain was rather saturated from many things, including flashbacks of the day before. Not to mention that thinking about that made him think of somebody in particular. He could feel the familiar surge in frustration and despair within. Somehow or another, he really felt like he needed Hermione Granger right then.

Except that he was _supposed_ to be angry with her.

When they had returned, he had been sharp, cold – even spiteful. But he just couldn't bear to ignore her altogether. He had to sneak glances at her once in a while, and he had seen her fall sound asleep in the bed, her pale face wrought with crinkles of worry.

_Maybe it's just guilt_, he thought bitterly.

"Draco?" Daphne's tentative voice floated him back down to earth.

"Get back," he muttered gruffly. And then he turned to walk away, leaving Daphne Greengrass staring at him with a very confused expression.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Hermione's return to the Gryffindor common-room had been a lot more welcoming than Draco's. When she stepped into the room, there was a blur of somebody flying towards her, and she realised that it was Ginny who was hugging her so tightly she could barely breathe.

"Oh, Hermione, I didn't have time to talk to you last night..." Ginny whispered fiercely into her ear. "But you were just so – so – brave! I mean, I can't imagine that you actually..."

Her voice trailed off as Harry came up, a half-amused and half-pained expression on his face. "Gin, you need to let Hermione go, she needs space."

"Thanks, Harry." Hermione managed a smile, and sputtered a bit as Ginny let go.

"Oops, sorry, Hermione," the redhead muttered sheepishly. "Didn't mean to."

"Are you alright?" Ron's voice piped up from the sofa, tentatively.

Hermione looked around the common-room. It was only the four of them.

"Yeah, well, relatively." She maintained her smile, glad that her friends weren't interrogating her the moment she had come in. "Where're the rest?"

"Dumbledore told us to tell them you've been away only because you were being seriously interviewed for opportunities, possibly Head Girl," said Harry, and he pulled Ginny towards the sofa, who led Hermione along. "So we told them you might be tired and would need some space when you're back."

Hermione shot him a grateful look.

"Neville and Corrinne are..." Ron cleared his throat. "Having some – talk." He looked a bit uncomfortable.

"Talk." There was a mischievous glint in Ginny's eye as she solemnly nodded in agreement.

"I heard about Astoria Greengrass and Snape," said Hermione, after a moment's silence.

The other three exchanged looks, and Harry looked very grim. He pulled out his wand to cast a silencing charm, before he continued. "I don't know, Hermione," he said, at last. "Lots of people have been saying Death Eaters, but I don't see what Astoria Greengrass has got to do with them." Hermione tried not to show discomfort upon hearing that, as she thought about the pendants. "Her family has been pretty neutral, haven't they? And Snape – I mean," Harry grimaced, "it could go either way. Either he's been summoned back to join them, or he's been found to be a member of the Order. I'd go with the former; I don't believe Snape joined the Order of his own accord. Voldemort must have planted him there."

"Dumbledore trusts him." Hermione pointed out.

"Yeah, but I don't," came the sharp reply.

"Hear, hear!" Ron added.

"Hermione, what – exactly happened in the caves?" Ginny put a hand on Hermione's wrist.

"Did he harass you?" Harry asked, pain evident in his eyes.

Hermione sighed. "Will you stop blaming yourself, Harry? I'm back in one piece, right?"

"He was willing to leave you behind even after all that you had helped him with." Ron snorted. "Bloody hell, Hermione, why'd you go off with him for?"

"Maybe it's because he needs my brains?" Hermione offered, although it hurt her to say that.

Ron looked scarcely mollified. "Parasite."

Hermione ignored him, and looked at Harry. "Surely you didn't believe that he wanted the locket from you because he wanted to turn it in?"

Harry grunted. He didn't like to admit that he had been possessed by the locket.

"He jolly well looked like it," Ron muttered. Then he glared at Hermione. "So what's this about Maldash Wentervale and that cup Malfoy was holding when he came back? That's about the only two things that we know about and you haven't explained anything!"

Ginny jumped in before Hermione could answer. "I'm sorry, Hermione, I had to tell them."

"Wentervale's dead," said Hermione, flatly. "But we found out from him the whole story of Lucius Malfoy's death."

Suddenly, the rest looked very interested.

Hermione sighed, and decided to narrate from the beginning, how she and Draco (she had been careful to say 'Malfoy') had been led to the abyss by Dumbledore, and the dragon encounter. There were audible gasps at the point when she had been injured so badly that she was unconscious. Then she made sure she emphasised that Draco had saved her and brought her through the Veil with him, and even finding his way through the labyrinth. Eventually, when they had met Wentervale, Draco had gotten Wentervale to Heal her.

She then elaborated on Wentervale's story that Lucius had been killed by Voldemort for letting Wentervale off twice, when the exiled man had known more than what he should know about the Horcruxes. When she was finished with that bit, Ginny looked at her uncomfortably.

"I didn't think Lucius Malfoy would have done that for his family. Or Wentervale either. But it's really strange – how he can stop at nothing for a stranger, but yet die for his family."

Hermione knew Ginny must be recalling the incident of Tom Riddle's diary, and shot her a sympathetic look. "Wizards and witches are still humans at heart."

"Ginny nearly died," said Harry, in a quiet voice that was more intimidating than anything else.

"Lucius has died," snapped Hermione, uncharacteristically. "It's more than tit for tat."

"Go on." Ginny urged.

The story continued with them searching through the caves, and eventually finding their way to the cauldron room through a hole in a floor. She could remember the entire scene vividly as she narrated how she and Draco had been separated by some magical force, and had to venture on their own. And of course, she conveniently left out the various heart-fluttering moments she had experienced.

Harry looked terribly frustrated knowing that he had left Hermione to fend for herself, and Ginny's hand on his arm was not much of comfort.

Finally, she told of the encounter with Augustus Rookwood, and the soul of Tom Riddle that had arose from the cup. Ginny winced, remembering her ordeal, and Harry and Ron stared in amazement.

"No wonder you were quick to think that Slytherin's locket was possessing Harry!" Ron was enlightened. "But Hermione, you were against three of them!"

"D – Malfoy was on my side." Hermione glared at him.

"Yeah, maybe because he was on the brink of death for being a traitor, coming to find Wentervale and all and not killing him!" Ron retorted. "And he needed you to save him!"

Hermione felt something rise in her, and had to take a few seconds to calm herself down. "Well at least, he distracted Rookwood and Riddle's soul enough so that I could destroy the Horcrux!"

"You destroyed it, not him!" Ron accused, triumphantly. "He's just using you, Hermione!"

"There was a Dementor there!" Hermione shot back. "He can't go back to them once the Dementor tells tales on him!"

"On what? He let Augustus Rookwood go, didn't he?" Ron lashed out.

Hermione was speechless for a moment as Ron continued to look triumphant. "Look, there's nothing more for me to say if you're condemning him to being a Death Eater who's bent on killing people. I think that he's been extremely courageous, determined, and – " She struggled to get the next word out. "Well, gentlemanly, even. He's nothing like what we've always made him out to be."

"Made him out to be?" Ron glared at her incredulously. "Hermione, he called you a – " Even he couldn't bear to say the word, and ran his hand through his mass of red hair with an air of frustration.

It was as if something had ignited within Hermione, whose body seemed to be filled with a pumping flammable chemical. There was no stopping the explosion from happening as she stood up.

"I KNOW HE CALLED ME A MUDBLOOD! I KNOW HE'S BEEN DOWNRIGHT MEAN AND SPITEFUL AND INSULTING! BUT HE'S NOT EVIL! AND IT'S PRECISELY BECAUSE HE'S A DEATH EATER THAT YOU SHOULD BE THANKFUL I'M WELL AND ALIVE NOW!"

The others were completely shocked by her outburst, and Hermione sat down, flaming red. Then she covered her face with her hands. "And it's because of me that he's going back to being that jerk!"

Harry looked a bit thankful that he had cast the silencing charm, although he was pretty dazed. Ron gaped like a goldfish, while Ginny looked skeptically at Hermione.

Feeling the heavy weight of their suspicion and shock on her, Hermione got up again and fled the common-room.

"Hermione, wait!"

-.-.-.-.-.-

"Is there a cold war going on in there?"

Hermione stopped short, turning to her left as she was about to head right after exiting the Gryffindor common-room. Draco Malfoy was lounging against the railing, eyeing her – the expression on his face was just hard to fathom.

"No sound coming out of there, but you look like you've just been through hell and back," he commented casually, looking away.

"That's none of your business!" she snapped, irritably, and turned to walk away from him.

"Stop there."

She spun around. "I'm not your lackey, so don't tell me what to do!"

"Shouldn't I be the one to be furious with you?" Draco's face darkened as he pushed away from the railing and advanced towards her. She took a step back. "Shouldn't you be afraid that if you defy me, I can kill you?"

Hermione glared at him defiantly. "I'm not afraid of you, Malfoy."

"That's why you did it, didn't you?" He brought himself right in front of her – she was immobilised the moment he stepped within centimetres of her. "That's why you told your friends, didn't you? And that's what you told them, huh, Draco Malfoy is pathetic, come and save his sorry arse!"

"I said nothing like that." Hermione gritted her teeth.

"Maybe that's not what you said – maybe Potter did." Draco's lip curled menacingly. He scanned the area swiftly, before turning back his fierce gaze onto her. "Potter told you to come spy on me, the pathetic Malfoy who has lost his father, go find out if he's gone to be a Death Eater to boost his ego and replace his father! And so this little brave Gryffindor tries to be too smart for her own good, asking all kinds of questions and pretending to show that she cares when all she's doing is drawing a huge trap for me to walk in!" His voice was not raised, but he uttered every word with such cold fury that Hermione could hardly breathe.

Then he leaned closer. "You were a bloody good actress for someone who sucks at lying, Granger."

"Go away." She turned defiant eyes on him, but he merely smirked.

"I'm not your lackey either." His face was too close for comfort, and she jerked away. "So don't tell me what to do." His breath lingered on her face, and her eyes fluttered shut. _Why does he have to have this effect on me?_

"I betrayed you, alright?" she hissed. "Now you can go ahead and do whatever you want, stand on whomever's side you want, just leave me alone!"

_Beware though, she could be a wolf in sheep's clothing..._ Wentervale's words came to Draco's mind, and he glared furiously at her, angry at how she had 'fulfilled the prophecy'. "So you just used me, and then you're pushing me away now? You think you can get away with that?"

"You've done that, too!" Hermione was feeling deflated from arguing. "You dare deny you've been using me for my brains?"

Draco felt his heart skip a beat; that seemed to fuel his anger. "I'm not denying anything!"

"Go away, please." She felt weak for begging him. His words were not helping her heavy heart.

"Did you hear me? I said do you think you can get away with using me?" His hand was reaching for his wand in his pocket.

"Maybe it's not because I'm a good actress, maybe it's because I was telling the truth!" She found some strength to hiss back. "I told you I was doing this partly for Harry, and I wasn't lying when I said I know you're not meant to be a..." She trailed off, shaking.

That was true. She had said that. And the reason why he had believed her back then because she wasn't lying. Or at least, he thought so.

"Alright, do what you want." Hermione was defeated. "I know you're not going to forgive me, so you can just – I don't know, hex me, kill me, whatever."

"You're trying to make me break my principles, aren't you?" He glared at her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, after a moment's awkward silence. The tension between them was so thick, but strangely enough not repelling. Instead, she was fighting the urge to fling her arms around his neck. "And I know it's not enough."

"Do you know what you did?" Draco's low voice was shaking; she opened her eyes to see the same pained expression in his eyes once again.

This time she found some strength to at least move, but he backed her all the way to a deserted corridor. Then he slammed his fists against the wall, effectively caging her within his arms. His proximity was so difficult to endure; Hermione closed her eyes again, gasping for breath.

Her puffs of breath on his face were laced with the same strawberry scent that drove him insane.

"You said you were going to help me," he whispered, his voice suddenly very different from the cold and angry tone that he had used earlier. "Then you made me pour my soul out to you, and you took it, and wrangled it like you would squeeze a towel. Do you know what that feels like?"

An intense pain was wracking her body with the impact of each word; _maybe that's how it feels like._

When she did not answer, he put his left hand on her cheek, startling her to open her eyes and stare at him in wonder and fear. His hand was so cold, but it seemed to set her entire body on fire.

"I'm the one who's gone to hell," his whisper was so raw it hurt, "and I'm not back from it yet."

He didn't know why he was doing this. One moment, he was so enraged it hurt him to even see her; the next, he was staring into those soulful brown eyes that begged for forgiveness, the same ones that saw through his every layer. He knew he was exposing himself to more hurt, being so vulnerable in front of her. But he couldn't bear to wear the mask any longer. And he couldn't bring himself to stay away from her any longer.

"I know I – I betrayed you, but I didn't do it in hope to hurt you." Hermione fought the urge to cry. "I swear. I admit I did it at first because Harry wanted me to get close to you. But... but it was different later on..."

Draco looked directly into her eyes, a very penetrating look that made her shiver all over. "How am I supposed to believe you?" His voice was now a little harsher, brittle even.

"I care, Draco." Hermione suddenly couldn't hold it in any longer. "I really, honestly, truly care, that's why I did it. It's because I care that I didn't tell Harry and Ron about all the things you told me until we had to go for this – this adventure, and I was scared we would both die. But somebody has to kill Voldemort. And then I couldn't possibly save you myself."

The use of his first name no longer made a warm feeling spread through his body; instead, he felt a sharp pain in his chest as she said it. And those two words.

_I care._

Her voice was now choking as she continued. "I don't have the right to try to know you, but I do know you. Dumbledore was right – you won't kill somebody you think doesn't deserve to be killed. But he's wrong; it's not your weakness. It's your strength. That makes you human. You're nothing like those ruthless Death Eaters out there. I don't know why you wanted to make Dumbledore think you're still working for Voldemort, I don't know why you – you could even think of leaving me behind, I... I just, well, I don't... no, I mean, you..."

She couldn't speak any longer, because Draco had pressed his lips onto hers once again.

It wasn't like the gentle kiss in the narrow and dark underground corridor; she whimpered a bit under the pressure on her lips; the heat from it was making her dizzy.

He pulled back quickly when he heard her whimper.

"Stop it!" She gasped. "Stop doing that!"

Draco looked down; his hand moved from her cheek back to the wall again. Her words steeled his resolve to counter her once again.

"I could think of leaving you behind because I am selfish," he said, the coldness returning to his voice. "Because I want to carry out this Horcrux mission myself."

"Why are you doing this?"

"It's my father, it's none of your business." Draco scowled. "And I don't need Saint Potter to cover my back. This is between the Dark Lord and me. If Potter or any one else related to him comes into the fray, it's no longer a personal vengeance. And the more people despise me, the more they hate me, the stronger I am."

"You don't need strength in that way," argued Hermione. "That's just sadistic!"

"How long have you known me, Granger?" His voice had taken on a dangerous note. "I've always been that sadistic."

Then he muttered, "I don't need anybody's interference at all. Not Saint Potter. Not almighty Dumbledore."

"Including me?"

He raised his eyes to meet hers. The grey orbs were slightly misty.

"Yes."

"Stop being so proud!" Hermione felt agitated. "If you do have a weakness, it's pride!"

"A Malfoy inheritance," he retorted, darkly.

"Then why did you kiss me?"

He felt his breath stop. He wanted to deny everything that was overwhelming him now; he wanted to push away all his emotions, ignore them, be brutal, harsh and cover up the trail of weaknesses he had left behind. He wanted to have the strength to pull out his wand and brandish it in front of her. Forget everything that had transpired before; forget that he had the irresistible urge to kiss her time and again.

"You care, don't you?"


	28. Setting the Trap

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter and the wizarding world, only Ms. Rowling does.

**A/N:** Once again, a big round of thanks to my reviewers (: Really happy about some of the things you guys said; I'm glad I seem to be on the right track! The plot's getting a lot more complicated at this point, so take your time to read! This chapter switches scenes a lot in particular. Still, I hope you all enjoy it! :D

* * *

"You care, don't you?"

It was like a little spark had been ignited within him. No matter how much he tried to repress it, it was just eating away at him, clawing at him faster and faster.

"You think too highly of yourself, Granger." Draco pushed himself away from the wall, and away from her. She felt air coming back to her again. But he could only feel pain enveloping him. "Care for you? Who are you to me?"

She couldn't speak.

"You twisted me around your little finger like anything, so this is how I twist you around." She couldn't make out his expression as he spoke with his back facing her. "I told you that this is _my_ game."

"Why are you doing this?" Hermione asked desperately. "Why can't you just drop that mask again..."

He spun around, wand directly at her face, and she plastered herself against the wall, breathing heavily.

"_My_ game." He repeated, eyes narrowing into slits. "Don't tell me how to play it."

"I asked you – why did you kiss me?"

Draco gave a hollow laugh. "Did you think it was real?"

Hermione shot him a cold look. "You must be a damn good actor, otherwise."

The smirk on Draco's face slipped off instantly.

_This is ridiculous! I can hide my mind from the Dark Lord, and this girl is reading everything off me?_

"I told you! The more people hate me, the more they..." Frustration was mounting in him. He wanted to tell her to go away, leave him alone, the kisses they had were mistakes – even the one he had just given her. He wanted her to hate him with all her might, so that he could return it. He wanted her to hate him so badly that they could go back to being at polar opposites again, just like they used to when they did patrolling together.

_Ironic... I was the one supposed to hate her for betraying me to Potter..._

"You aren't making me hate you!" Hermione was equally frustrated. "You're... you're making me – "

She couldn't complete her sentence, and in despair, she pushed aside his wand before he could react, and tried to run off.

Without thinking, Draco reached out to grab her arm and yanked her back, such that she was in his embrace.

"Let me go!" She struggled against him. "Or I'll..."

Then he did something very uncharacteristic that shut her up. He buried his head in her brown curls, leaning on her shoulder, as his arms tightened around her back and waist.

Hermione gaped.

"Don't move."

Feeling his heavy breaths against her neck, she shuddered for a while, then tried her best to relax. They stood there like that for a while – Hermione hadn't the faintest idea how long – only that she was half afraid somebody might spring upon them in this corridor. She wasn't sure if the ripples of tremor she was experiencing came from herself, or from him.

"I'm sorry."

Her eyes widened. It was heartstopping enough that Draco Malfoy was hugging her so tightly, let alone the fact that he had just apologised.

"I'm... _what?_"

"Don't make me say it again," came the muffled voice from her shoulder.

"I..."

"I told you you do the strangest things..." he whispered. "You can even appease my anger even after this act of betrayal. I hated you so badly. I wanted to kill you there and then, so you can be out of my life. But no. Everytime I think about what happened, you're always there. When you want to leave me, I can only think of wanting you to stay. What's wrong with you, Hermione Granger, why are you always doing this to me?"

She closed her eyes. "I... I should be asking you that. What're you doing to me?"

Silence.

"Draco Malfoy!" She pushed him away, but his arms remained locked behind her as she struggled once again to break free. "Stop. Doing. This! One moment you're threatening to kill me, one moment you're willing to tell me everything... sometimes you look at me with pure disgust and hatred, sometimes you look at me like – like the way you're looking at me now... then you kiss whenever you like..." Her voice was weakening, and she felt so miserable she wanted to dig a hole and crawl into it any moment.

"I'm a Death Eater," the way he emphasised it so coldly was chilling, not least because he was whispering over her head, "and you're a Muggleborn. Do you need me to explain further?"

She stopped struggling. Instead, she went flaccid in his arms.

Like a ragdoll. Like a vulnerable, weak puppet whose strings he could pull and control.

He couldn't do it anymore; he couldn't bring himself to do anything to her. He couldn't bear for her to turn and walk away and pretend that nothing had happened. He only wanted her to be safe, and yet, he couldn't lose her.

"You asked me why I kissed you..." He felt his voice shake. "The first time I did, it was because I thought I had lost you there. I thought I was going to die, and Rookwood would kill you thereafter. And it would be my fault. I knew all along that there was a huge possibility that you were doing this for Potter. But you were insane, you went so far ahead with me. That isn't Gryffindor courage anymore, Granger, that's stupidity."

Hermione felt the tears start.

"The second time I did," his voice was so hoarse now that she had to strain to listen, "was to say sorry. For wanting to leave you behind. That wasn't Malfoy pride, that was stupidity too."

Finally, she did look up. His eyes were searching hers; a very deep and penetrating look.

His mask was down again.

"I was really beginning to think..." She swallowed hard, and he could feel her body tremble. "I was – really nobody to you."

He did not answer; instead, he tightened his hold around her and looked away.

Hermione couldn't help smiling a little through her tears. Her arms reached out to touch Draco's back. It felt almost surreal, standing there with her arms around Draco Malfoy, and vice versa. She could feel her tears soaking into Draco's robes as she pressed her face into his shoulder. Everything was so topsy-turvy, and nerve-wracking, but yet she could still seek solace in the arms of the enemy.

_Or so they make him out to be._

Draco had not really expected the reciprocation. But he knew he had been craving for this ever since the day in the cave, when her arms were hooked around his neck, and all he could think of was that there was nothing more he really wanted.

Eventually, he released her and stepped backward. When she looked into his eyes, they were gleaming silver. His face was wrought with all the troubles that weighed on his heart; his eyebrows were set in a firm V-shape and his forehead was creased. Yet his eyes betrayed emotion that she had never seen in him before. It was almost warm, yet sad at the same time. She smiled at him, despite the tear streaks on her cheeks.

"Stop doing that," he muttered. "I'm in no mood for smiles."

Hermione's smile vanished. "Is it to do with Greengrass and Snape?"

Draco's expression turned grim and dangerous. After a pause, he replied, "Snape can only have gone back to the Death Eaters, and I have a very bad feeling that he's not in a good position. Otherwise, he would have told Dumbledore."

Hermione cocked her head to the side, looking at Draco. "So – it's true that Snape is working for Dumbledore?"

Draco hesitated, then he nodded. "But you're not to tell this even to Potter or Weasley," he warned. "The more convincing it is, the better. He's like a triple agent, which is fairly confusing and rather dangerous, if I might say. He's risked his life a couple of times, carrying information here and there."

Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat. "You – you want me to still help you?"

Draco didn't respond for a while. Then he looked at her again. "I don't think I'd be able to do this on my own," he admitted, rather gruffly.

It would have been amusing if not for the fact that there was gratitude bursting out in her.

"What – what about Astoria Greengrass?" she finally said. "What has she got to do with all of this?"

There was the sound of voices coming from the entrance of the corridor, so Draco took hold of Hermione's shoulder – not too roughly – and moved her closer into the darkness. She couldn't really see the expression on his face, but he sounded frustrated.

"I don't know," he said in a low voice. "Daphne says nobody knew about the incident other than the two of them. But one thing's for sure, it was an inside job. Whether it's a Slytherin boy or girl, nobody knows, since the boys are pretty adept at getting passwords." Hermione rolled her eyes, and was thankful that Draco could not really see her in the darkness. Or so she hoped. "Apparently Pansy saw Millicent Bulstrode come back to the room at night. It's possible that Millicent let someone into the room."

"There's no other reason why Greengrass could be taken away. It's a warning to you," whispered Hermione. "Whoever it is must have known that you had something over the Greengrasses, and if the news spread about the pendant incident, you're the most likely suspect to have kidnapped her!"

There was a horrified silence.

"That can't be possible," retorted Draco, indignantly. "If the person is against me, then implicating Lily Greengrass shouldn't be part of this!"

"The person doesn't even have to know about Lily Greengrass," replied Hermione. Draco could feel her shaking under his hold on her shoulder. "As long as you tried to blackmail Astoria Greengrass with the pendants, it's enough evidence against you. I think – I think whoever it was could have tried coaxing the story out of Greengrass, although I think she's smart enough not to mention her grandmother. I've noticed that she's been looking out of sorts ever since you met her grandmother; wouldn't be surprised if someone else did and tried to feign concern."

"That's just a theory!" He sounded impatient, letting go of her.

"You have a better idea?"

"The Slytherins know better than to irk me," he muttered, darkly. "Let alone blackmail me. But why would someone want to..." Draco paused, then his eyes flashed. "Somebody's become one of us, too."

"We'll have to lure this person out." Hermione felt a chill run down her spine. _Another_ Death Eater in Hogwarts.

Draco raised his eyebrows. "I think I'm using the right person."

She didn't respond; instead, she bit her lip.

"If you're using me, then I am; if you're not, I'm not," he supplied, cryptically. "Besides, you're supposed to redeem yourself."

_Ever so stubborn in admitting the truth._ The smile came back to her face. "Then you'll see."

-.-.-.-.-.-

In the Great Hall, there was a louder than usual chatter from all four tables as everyone jumped into their seats to fervently discuss all their conspiracy theories regarding Snape and Astoria Greengrass. Word had gone round to every student about the disappearances of both teacher and student, despite the professors' best attempts to alleviate fears by dismissing Snape's absence as the need to travel abroad to find out some new defence strategies. Try as they might, they couldn't possibly reason out Astoria's disappearance however, given the distraught state of her sister which had clearly ruled out the possibility of a family matter.

Harry and Ron were also discussing in low voices about what had happened, and Harry was rather annoyed that Professor Dumbledore had only chuckled at their theories about Snape snitching to Voldemort regarding Malfoy and Hermione. At the mention of his best friend, he turned awkwardly to her, but she merely stabbed at the salad with her fork, and Ron tugged at his sleeve anxiously.

"Hermione," Harry began to say, but she ignored him.

"Hermione..." Ron put a hand through his hair and mussed it up. "I'm... no, we're sorry, we didn't mean to..."

"Yes you did," snapped Hermione, irritably, and drizzled a dollop of salad cream onto her veggies. "And you're not a bit sorry about what you said."

Ron scowled, and turned back to his own salad, clearly not willing to appease her any longer. Harry sighed.

_I'm sorry._

One person's apology did mean a hell lot though. And he _did_ mean he was sorry.

She glanced up towards the Slytherin table, careful not to let her gaze linger on the person she was eyeing. He was looking every bit the person everyone wanted to avoid on the first day of school. The tightly-clammed lips, the firmly-set jaw, the sharp glare, and the heck-care attitude. Blaise Zabini sat to his right, and was shooting Draco rather odd looks as he helped himself to the food.

"Hermione, stop looking over there," growled Ron. "Stop being so nice to him when he's been so vile!"

It was true. Had he not come to say all those things to her earlier, she might have been quite dead set on avoiding him at all costs, even being angry with him. She picked at her salad again.

She turned to look at the staff table instead. There, Albus Dumbledore was looking at his food. But he was not eating. He looked rather peaked, and Hermione frowned. Slowly, the Headmaster lifted his head to look at her, and smiled gently. Hermione managed a smile back, then looked back to her own plate.

And then looked up again to the Slytherin table. This time, she caught his eye.

Then she pushed her chair away slightly. Harry turned instinctively, and Ron whispered, "Where's she going?"

Before either of them could ask, Hermione was already on her way out of the Great Hall.

Once she had exited the Hall, she began to turn to her left.

"Granger."

She stopped. And turned around.

"Malfoy."

"What is it?" His voice had an impatient edge to it.

She looked around with a furtive glance, then glared back at him. "You said that Voldemort has something treasured in this school," she hissed. "Where the hell is it?"

The moment she said that, he grabbed her by her robe collar and dragged her along to the nearest broom cupboard. His movements were brash, rough, but he never touched her as he pushed her in and shut the door on them.

The broom cupboard smelt musty, and the claustrophobia was enveloping Hermione.

_People like to snog here?_ was her first thought.

"Don't talk about this in front of everyone!" Draco snarled. "Someone might be walking by!"

She wrenched his hand off her collar, feeling the familiar tingles run through her as she realised how close they were. He was practically breathing over her; if she slipped, she would fall onto him.

"I'll go retrieve it tonight." Draco's hot breath was caressing her face, even though he sounded very curt and fierce. "Don't you dare try following me, I'll hex you immediately!"

"You wouldn't dare!" Hermione shot back, giving an involuntary shudder.

Draco could feel her shudder beneath him, and he suppressed a snicker. He couldn't deny, however, that there were thrills running all through his body as well. He was aching to just reach out and run his hand through her brown curls, untangling the messy strands, and just putting his face near...

They went very still.

There was a very, very faint sound of disappearing footsteps.

"You think whoever it is, heard us?" whispered Hermione.

Draco placed a finger on her lips.

The touch was enough to make her shudder again.

Exasperated by her movements, he released his touch and quickly slipped out of the broom cupboard. Hermione waited a while, before she too, slipped out. By the time, Draco had disappeared already.

She stared down the empty corridors, where the fires in each torch that lined the corridor flickered occasionally. It seemed like their hope for what would go right was just as uncertain as the fires.

"Be safe..." she whispered, to no one.

-.-.-.-.-.-

"Why have you brought me here?"

There was a cackle, and thin, slender fingers reached out to stroke the side of her cheek. Astoria Greengrass flinched away, and gave her captor a most menacing glare. Or rather, she was glaring at darkness, because she could barely see how her captor looked like in the dark shroud of the cell she was in.

"Oh, darling, won't it hurt not to ask questions, and just be a good girl?" The sickly-sweet voice broke into another cackle. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Let. Me. GO!" Astoria shrieked.

Immediately, the wand flashed across her face, and Astoria fell to her side, gasping from the blow.

"You need to be a bit more cooperative, my lamb." The voice sounded almost sorrowful. "Or else I'd be forced to be uncooperative myself."

"Yeah, I'm supposed to be absolutely cooperative when I've been knocked unconscious, and when I'm awake, I find myself in this bloody black hole," spat Astoria. "How thrilling. And plus, a couple of blows thrown in to add to the excitement! Now will you please tell me why the hell have I been brought here?"

"This crap is killing me," a deep, ferocious snarl came from the corner. Astoria's eyes widened. "When can I have her?"

"Hush, Greyback, this is not your game for now. We're playing another game with someone else!"

Astoria's eyes narrowed, as she tried to sit upright again, as much as she could with her hands tied behind her back. The name 'Greyback' was faintly familiar. Where had she heard it before?

It dawned upon her. In one of the alleyways at Diagon Alley, those that led to Knockturn Alley, she remembered seeing a few posters with the large word "WANTED" shouting at her. And the psychopathic look on the man-wolf's face in the pictures as he roared maniacally.

In an instance, she knew who her captors were working for.

"There's only one person you can possibly play games with and that it involves me."

"Oh, she's smart, this one." The voice was sly. "You're making this really exciting for me."

"But what exactly are you trying to do with him?" Astoria was confused. First, Draco Malfoy was found missing by his two good friends, and later, it was said that he was at a secret meeting with Professor Dumbledore for a possible Head Boy position. He had not returned when she was taken away, and she felt extremely bewildered and suspicious.

_And there's that Granger girl too! She told him about the pendants, that's for sure! Nobody else would have known! What exactly is going on with those two, and why are these people after Malfoy when they're supposed to be on the same side?_

"Why do you care, my dear?" the voice asked, thoughtfully. "Do you like him?"

Astoria's eyes flashed.

"He's landed your family into some kind of trouble lately, hasn't he?"

There was a loud gasp. "How did you know?"

"Strange response, this." The voice became a little more menacing. "I would have thought you'd expect him to tell us..."

Astoria clammed up immediately. It was true – some part of her had expected Draco Malfoy to tell the Death Eaters. The paranoid side of her wouldn't shut up about the fact that he had done her family in. But yet, the rational side of her had picked up on various clues that suggested otherwise. For instance, he had known about the connection of her grandmother to Maldash Wentervale. He couldn't have known that from the Death Eaters. He had asked her about all these sensitive issues that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would have pounced on him for, and yet he was able to escape unscathed – till now. And he had _promised_ that he wouldn't tell his master if she had cooperated with him...

Somehow she just couldn't shake off the feeling that Draco Malfoy wasn't just the Death Eater he was made out to be.

"I think Draco has been really naughty, hasn't he?" The voice mused again.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Draco found himself face-to-face with a very familiar wall. He frowned when he scanned the area for anybody. When he was satisfied that there was no one in sight, he began to pace left and right of the wall.

There was a low rumble, and the outline of a door began to appear.

Clutching the glittering Hufflepuff cup in his hand, he used the other to wrench open the door, and immediately shut it behind him.

The room looked the same as when he had last entered it. The rickety old ladder that was still teetering at the corner, making creaky sounds with every step he took, as if reminding him how painfully delicate each step he took was. Something was missing beside the ladder, but he couldn't exactly remember what. He caught sight of the cut pipes in the corner, but he edged away towards the other end. There was an iron cupboard at the far end, and he took care to manouevre around all the dusty furniture and eccentric-looking items in order to get there.

When he got there, his eyes darted around for any movement.

With his wand, he unlocked the cupboard and placed the Hufflepuff cup within. The doors of the cupboard swung shut. He tried to open the door again with his wand, but it remained shut. Feeling satisfied, he turned around and made his way back to the entrance.

He couldn't help glancing at the mass pipes and wondering if the pendants were still there. Or had they disappeared like the bejewelled cup?

Then in front of him, was that same pile of grubby old Gryffindor jerseys.

The basilisk fang that Hermione had handed over to him was in the inner lining of his robe. He could feel its curved shape as he walked towards the pile. He could feel his fingers itching.

_Whoever it is will wait... wait for me to walk out... I still have time..._

Draco inched forward and flicking his wand, sent the jerseys flying to the side.

He stared at the bust of Rowena Ravenclaw, speechless.

The diadem was gone.

_How would anyone know..._

Flustered, he looked around and tossed up the jerseys and shifted a few items, but the diadem was nowhere near. Quickly, he cast an eye back to the mass pipes, and whispered, "_Accio pendants!_"

Suddenly, the pendants shot out of their hiding place, and hooked around his wand. Draco stared at the glittering chains, his heart thumping wildly.

The pendants were still around. The cup disappearing was because he had hoped for the Room of Requirement to consume it forever. But he had meant to retrieve the pendants once everything was over. And he had definitely meant to retrieve the diadem.

_Whoever it is, couldn't have known... he or she would be waiting outside, waiting to pounce on me when I leave this room. How many people would know about a room of forgotten things? And the Dark Lord wouldn't let them know about his Horcrux... Granger and I didn't say anything about it either!_

Hurling the pendants back into the pipes, he hurriedly made his way to the entrance. Everything seemed like a blur, the rage and desperation that was clouding his vision and mind, it was billowing within him like a strong gust of wind...

_Unless a senior Death Eater has already made his or her way in here already... all of us are going to be..._

He nearly tripped. Quickly, he balanced himself.

Staring at the offending object, he noticed that it was a very dusty old book.

His eyes trailed right. There was a strewn pile of old books. What was strange was that there were still soft clouds of dust swirling around them.

Draco slowly turned to his left. The teetering ladder. And the wavering pile of books that was supposed to be beside it.

And was now on the ground.

_Pushed a couple of minutes ago._

His wand firmly grasped in his hand, Draco managed the most dangerous glare he had, and surveyed the room.

"Come. Out. Now." He uttered every word with venom and iciness.

There was a gust of wind that blew through, sending the dust bits swirling even higher.

The windows are all closed.

"NOW." He snarled, baring his teeth.

He wasn't sure whether he was feeling all that confident as he was trying to show on his face. He was going to come face-to-face with another of Voldemort's underlings, each one of them powerful enough to kill Draco and destroy everything that he had worked hard to attain today.

He realised, with a sinking feeling, that the same person had watched his every move entering in the room – from vanishing Helga Hufflepuff's cup, to retrieving the pendants...

"Hello, Draco."

He spun around.

And gasped.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Neville sat down on the edge of the steps overlooking the grounds of Hogwarts, where Hagrid's hut smoked in the distance. Beside him, Corrinne skipped down a few steps and looked up at him, a faint smile hanging at the edge of her lips. Having time alone with Neville seemed to have become a part of the day that she looked forward to all the time.

"You look distressed," she remarked. "What are you thinking about?"

Neville mumbled something incomprehensible. Corrinne stared at him. "What?"

He sighed, and then bumped down a few more steps to be level with her. She took his hand encouragingly.

"I keep having these dreams," he muttered. "Of You-Know-Who visiting my parents and laughing at them."

Corrinne flinched. "Me too."

He looked at her in surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah. Strangely enough, it's not Lucius Malfoy. Even though if he had been there, I'd have been completely violent in my dreams and wake up at the other end of the dorm." She managed a weak smile.

Neville did not smile. "I was helpless. I couldn't do anything."

"Neville, this is your mission as much as it is Harry's. Or even – " Corrinne found it hard to name the boy, and merely made an exasperated noise.

He shook his head. "I'm not the one prophecised to kill him. I don't have the means, no power, no strength, nothing. I just want him dead," he said, resignedly. "Doesn't really matter who kills him in the end."

"There are still three more Horcruxes." Corrinne pointed out. "You can do your part!"

"How am I supposed to know what they are?" demanded Neville, groaning.

"I have this theory that one of the Horcruxes is probably right next to Voldemort," said Corrinne, in a low voice.

Neville stared at her, wide-eyed. "What?"

"It makes sense, you see," explained Corrinne. "If his 'self' is destroyed, the Horcrux beside him will be aware of the last going-ons before his 'self' was killed. Okay, let's just construct an example. Say, Harry defeats Voldemort in his whatever-form-that-he-is-in-now, and he appears triumphant. That Horcrux can just release the soul trapped in it to kill Harry before Harry can react." She shuddered at the thought of that. "That's – my theory."

"It makes sense. But I mean – what form can the Horcrux assume? Is it always an object? Harry says You-Know-Who always goes from place to place with his followers. Either he's wearing that object, or the Horcrux is one of those boot-licking creatures," said Neville.

"The one object he wore and discarded was the Gaunt ring," said Corrinne, thoughtfully squeezing Neville's hand. "I doubt he'd be wearing anymore Horcruxes with him – the force with which somebody might destroy him would destroy the Horcrux as well."

"Then it's probably one of his followers." Neville deduced. "We've got to ask Dumbledore if that is possible!" He started to get a little excited, and Corrinne smiled.

"Why don't we let Harry know first?" asked Neville. "Maybe he can recall something from one of those times he's met You-Know-Who."

"Okay," said Corrinne. She got ready to get up, and so did Neville.

Suddenly, as they turned back towards the corridor, they heard voices. One of them sounded a bit choked. Neville looked questioningly at Corrinne, who beckoned him to follow behind her, and they crept to stand against the wall, careful not to look around the corner as the voices grew louder.

"_...you won't be able to get anything out of me_," a voice hissed. A very familiar voice. Corrinne strained to listen, her eyebrows furrowing together to try to make out who it was. "It's no use!"

There was a tinkling laughter, but it didn't sound very pleasant. Suddenly, there was absolute silence.

Corrinne inched towards the bend, and then took a peep.

There was no one.

But she realised what she was staring ahead at.

"That's the entrance to the Slytherin common-room," whispered Neville, as he popped his head out beside her. "I didn't like the sound of that, by the way."

It suddenly occurred to Corrinne who it was who spoke. Her eyes turned a darker red than ever.

"What is it?" asked Neville, alarmed, when he pulled Corrinne back, only to shrink away from her deadly glare.

Corrinne's eyes narrowed.

"The jerk's in trouble."


	29. Unanswered Questions

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to Ms Rowling. Sorry for unoriginality, I typed a whole chunk and it disappeared!

**A/N:** This current chapter is a bit of a filler, but helps to take stock of what has been going on so far! I promise things will unravel in time to come, so just sit tight and enjoy the ride!

* * *

"Pansy?"

She was one of the last people Draco had expected to see in that room.

Much less with the glittering diadem hanging on the last few fingers of her right hand, as she held it out to him.

An indulgent smile appeared on her face as she swung the diadem back and forth. "Looking for this?"

"What the _hell_are you doing here?" Draco couldn't believe his eyes, and he couldn't believe the answer that was going to come out from her.

"Need you ask?" She withdrew her hand, and looked at him with a bored expression. "I thought you were smarter than that, Draco."

"Is Blaise in this too?" Draco narrowed his eyes at her.

"We're together," said Pansy, matter-of-factly. "Who'd you think he'd support?"

Draco could feel the bile rise up to his throat in his fury. Even his supposed best friends in Slytherin were betraying him. To think that he had suspected that doll of a Millicent Bulstrode when the perpetrators were right next to him! He cringed as the Dark Mark seemed to burn once again.

"Does it hurt?" She cocked her head to the side. "Maybe it's really sensing how much of a traitor you are."

"How long have you been with them?" He seethed with anger.

"That's not of your concern," and Pansy found one of the dusty old armchairs to sit in. It didn't envelop her as what he had imagined the armchairs might do, even though he was secretly hoping they would swallow her in. Pansy had been crafty and sly, but sinister was another thing altogether, and that was exactly what was etched onto her face right now. "Your concern is that you are going to die any moment."

Draco shot her a look of pure loathing. "What are you going to do? Kill me?"

"Not my honour." She shook her head, the smile still at the edge of her lips. "But we have guests, arriving at any moment."

Draco stared at her in horror. "How did you..."

Pansy swung back and gestured towards the cupboard that Draco had placed the Hufflepuff cup in. Suddenly, she whispered "_Engorgio!_", and the cupboard began to grow in size. Draco was completely shocked when it eventually transformed into a large cabinet, large enough to fit _humans_.

"This..."

"A Vanishing Cabinet," Pansy replied, proudly. "It's a pair – the other's in Borgin and Burkes at Knockturn Alley." Her eyes glinted.

Draco looked away and cursed under his breath. The cup had gone straight into the hands of the Death Eaters! _All Dumbledore's bloody good idea of coming here!_But he knew he had to come here somehow, to retrieve the diadem. He had just never expected that...

"I'll just have to hand this over." Pansy twirled the diadem around her fingers. She made to drop it to the ground, such that Draco immediately leaned forward. Instead, she caught it with her other hand, and Draco gave her the most venomous look he could possibly have.

"You aren't buying time for nothing." Draco realised suddenly. "What is it that you want?"

"Oh, so we're getting to the point," said Pansy, chuckling, and she stopped twirling the diadem. "Maybe we could start with you telling us what exactly happened on your little trip to Dumbledore's office? Was it really an interview?"

"You need some corroboration with the Headmaster?" Draco's eyes flashed.

"Don't be silly, Draco, we know that was complete rubbish." Pansy laughed, and uneasiness swept through Draco's body. "You know a couple of secrets of the Dark Lord, don't you? You went on a mission for old Dumblydore?"

"Watch who you're talking to," hissed Draco. "How dare you!"

Pansy stood up so suddenly that Draco had to take a step back. Her black hair seemed to crackle with electricity as she looked at him with a gaze so dangerous it seemed to see right through him. "Who are you now, Draco, that you can speak to me like that? Everybody was hoping that you could succeed your imbecile of a father..."

"YOU - !" but Pansy had whipped out her wand to counter Draco's, her face twitching.

"But you just wouldn't listen. I told you your anger didn't work on me, because I know you Draco. This kind of thing won't make you crumble so easily. But then right from the start you chose to disobey the Dark Lord. That's why your life was so miserable. And still is."

It was true. If he had decided to embark on the role of being a Death Eater wholeheartedly, he wouldn't be facing all these struggles and pain that he had been going through since his father's death. But this was not the time to evaluate his decision. Pansy's words just seemed to rile him up further, and he knew all the more that he had made the right choice.

"You see, Draco, the Dark Lord knows _everything_." A horrific chill spread through Draco's entire nervous system as Pansy laughed once again. "You don't have any choice now. You know the rest of the Dark Lord's secrets. You must die..."

"A condition," spat Draco. "You have a condition!"

"He wants to know what other secrets you know..." Pansy curled her lip. "It's that simple."

Draco stared at her, bewildered. "_What?_"

But before Pansy could reply, he realised that he had been on the wrong track of mind. He realised who must have put her up to this. There were only possibly two other people other than Hermione and him, and of course the Dark Lord himself, who knew the importance of the diadem. One was the secret-keeper of the Horcrux, if there was any assigned to this Horcrux, and he heavily doubted there was anybody, given the strong magical protections of Hogwarts.

The other was Augustus Rookwood.

He didn't know whether to be relieved knowing that it wasn't the Dark Lord, or the fact that it was the insane Rookwood.

"You want to know the other secrets." Draco raised his eyebrows. "Oh, Pansy, you don't really know a thing, do you? Rookwood wouldn't have told you anything."

Pansy's eyes did not betray anything. "Oh, you've guessed. Of course I know everything." She held up the diadem. "This is what the Dark Lord treasures, and you were about to destroy it!"

"Oh, but do you know why he treasures it? Because it's so important that if you so much as scratch it, Pansy Parkinson, you will die!"

This time, Pansy did flinch. There was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes.

"And you will die here, in a room of forgotten things," finished Draco, smirking.

"And so will you!" Pansy shot back coldly. "Have you forgotten your mother? What will she think if her only son abandoned her? She was hysterical when you were gone, she even barged into my fireplace!" Draco blanched, and made a mental note to talk to his mother about looking to Pansy. "I'm a girl, it doesn't matter as much as the heir of the Malfoys." She grew confident with her words. "You want to take a bet?" She prepared to raise the diadem above the floor.

Draco knew fully well that too much movement might release the soul of Tom Riddle, and he was far from willing to allow that to happen. "No."

"Good, then tell me the location of the other secrets."

"If I say I don't know?"

"Don't play games with me, Draco Malfoy!" snarled Pansy, raising the diadem once again.

"You know nothing, Pansy! NOTHING!" exploded Draco, his wand emitting sparks as he yelled. "You're just a puppet of an insane Death Eater who wants to usurp the Dark Lord! Call yourself a servant of the Dark Lord!"

"Did I say I served him?" Pansy suddenly melted into a soft voice, almost quiet, but yet equally deadly. She rolled up her robe sleeve, and Draco gasped when he saw – nothing.

"You tricked me!" He was getting more confused and shocked.

"Does it matter now?"

"What did Rookwood tell you to make you work for him?"

He was watching the diadem in her fingers; one of his hands was closing in onto his robes to pull out the weapon to destroy the Horcrux before his eyes. He only had to distract Pansy...

"I said it doesn't matter!" Pansy glared at him. "Fine, if you don't want to tell me, I'll bring you straight to him!"

She wielded her wand faster than he had expected, and he found himself immobilised – but only from neck down.

"You can do a _Partial Immobilisation_charm?" Draco asked incredulously; furiously as well, from being thwarted from executing his plan.

"Just so that if you decide to change your mind to tell me something important, I won't miss it," replied Pansy, coolly.

Draco growled in utter frustration as she pocketed his wand with a smirk. Then she pulled him by the robe collar – out of the Room of Requirement.

"The Cabinet!" he hissed.

"We shall just leave it alone," Pansy whispered into his ear, as she silently pulled him along. "Let them come."

Light dawned upon Draco. "They're not coming!" He hissed furiously. "You vile liar!" Augustus Rookwood could not possibly want to alert any other Death Eater that he wanted to destroy the Horcrux himself. _What pair of cupboards! A whole load of rubbish!_He mentally cursed himself for not realising earlier – he had fallen to a useless threat!

_Damn, she tried to confuse me till I can't think clearly!_

Pansy smirked. A few more seconds, and they would be around the bend...

"Hell, you won't be able to get anything out of me! It's no use!" Draco seethed through his teeth, but Pansy merely laughed; a tinkling, unpleasant laugh. There were light footsteps, and immediately she spun round the bend, jerking him along, her wand poking at his throat. Then he realised that they were walking down to the Slytherin dungeons.

_Hermione Granger, where are you?_

He silently cursed that the charmed coin Granger had given him – was in his pocket. He had requested it after remembering how she had given it to that (ruddy) Weasley and the rest of the (bloody) gang when she was spying on him. It hurt him to think of that. But now that he did, it was stupid that he had forgotten all about it in the heat of anger, and now he had absolutely no chance to retrieve it and warn her.

_Where are you?_

-.-.-.-.-.-

Hermione sat in the furthest end of the library, the same place where Draco and her used to meet before their little adventure at the caves. She couldn't bear to sit in his chair; instead, she could imagine the lazy way he reclined in it, and the way his features were illuminated by the moonlight that was pouring in through the windows. It was not yet that dark however; instead of moonlight, there were the glowing rays of the evening sun being filtered through. Somehow the image of a luminant Draco faded, and more pertinent things came back to her mind.

She had been thinking about the Horcruxes for the last half an hour. One of the things they had never really delved into, was that there were other Secret-Keepers apart from Maldash Wentervale, Lucius Malfoy, and Augustus Rookwood. And there was one thing that was puzzling her now – something that they should have thought about earlier. In the confusion and terror, they had completely neglected it.

Wentervale had said that one Death Eater had been chasing him time and again towards the chasm, and that this same person had been entrusted the secret of the locket horcrux after Wentervale had failed Voldemort. But why then, did the person not show up when Dumbledore and Harry attempted to retrieve it, and then destroy it? The locket was real; there was no doubt about it. The way that it was destroyed clearly showed that it was a Horcrux. So how could the person have survived Voldemort's wrath after failing to protect the Horcrux?

_Unless it was a strategy_, she thought while frowning. One Death Eater could not possibly outlast Lupin, Moody, Tonks, and all the rest of them – even Dumbledore, despite how weakened he had become.

_Dumbledore?_She sat up straight, horrified.

Was the whole point to satisfy the lot of them by allowing them to secure a victory, but at the same time, weaken Albus Dumbledore? Voldemort would probably be more than willing to sacrifice an eighth of his soul to kill Dumbledore. The Headmaster, despite regaining strength when he had returned, had not looked his usual strong self anymore. He had looked rather pale at the Great Hall during mealtimes, and he had admitted earlier to Hermione in his office that he wasn't feeling wonderful.

Hermione sank back into the seat, groaning inwardly. She would have to talk to the Headmaster again soon.

Apart from that, there were other Secret-Keepers. When Maldash Wentervale and Lucius Malfoy were stripped of their Secret-Keeper roles, there were the original two, and two who replaced them. One of which was the person who was put in charge of Salazar Slytherin's locket. Augustus Rookwood was the one who had replaced Malfoy.

Which could only mean two Secret-Keepers were left, who were in charge of the remaining two Horcruxes – those two that they had no idea what they could possibly be. At least, Hermione felt pretty certain that nobody should have been placed in charge of the Ravenclaw diadem given that it was hidden in the magically-protected walls of Hogwarts. As for the diary... Malfoy senior had to be unaware of the book's hidden meaning, merely sure it was a jinxed book that he dumped onto Ginny, or else he wouldn't have given it away to someone close to Harry Potter so easily.

Hermione cursed Lucius Malfoy under her breath, relatively thankful that his son wasn't in front of her to instill a sense of guilt in her.

The Gaunt ring? She frowned deeper. If Dumbledore could get to it, was there a secret-keeper after all? There had been no mention of anyone being killed.

With all those thoughts in mind, she closed her eyes to sort them out properly. She would really have to talk to Professor Dumbledore soon! But not before... her hand went instinctively to her robe pocket, hoping to feel the vibration that would tell her Draco's message.

_Please be okay... please be okay..._

It had been a terrible risk to ask him to shoulder, but he was more than willing. He wanted to expose whoever it was in Slytherin house who could possibly have abducted Astoria Greengrass to blackmail him, and to eradicate a possible threat that could bring in Death Eaters into Hogwarts.

She couldn't sit there any longer, being so edgy. Gathering up her books, she headed out of the library and towards the Gryffindor common-room.

Along the way, she saw Blaise Zabini come round the corner. Hermione knew that Zabini was very sharp, and Ginny had told her earlier on that when she and Draco had left Hogwarts, Zabini seemed to have been suspicious that both of them were missing at the same time. She pretended to be engrossed in dusting her books as she walked, although she sneaked one or two peeks towards him as he came along.

To her surprise, she noted that Zabini looked like he was searching for somebody. His head kept turning left and right, front and back, and his pace was quick. He barely even looked at her as he walked past her swiftly.

As she walked on, she felt that he had stopped, and turned to look at him.

He _had_ stopped, and was _staring_at her.

Hermione was startled; Zabini shook out of his trance, scowled, and then broke into a brisk walk round the other corner, disappearing from sight.

She tried to shake the uneasy feeling out of her as she approached the Gryffindor common-room, but it didn't seem like it was going away.

First of all, she met a group of Ravenclaw second-years who were so engrossed in their conversation that they didn't even look to see who was walking towards them. Just as they passed Hermione on the staircase, she heard them whisper,

"...he's working for _them_! It HAS to be him! Besides, Greengrass was from Slytherin too..."

"But how can he, I mean Dumbledore and all..."

"Oh, you never know, You-Know-Who has all these ideas..."

Hermione stopped short. Her hand immediately went to her robe pocket despite the lack of vibration. _Oh no..._Her prediction had come true!

The girls seemed to have noticed her stop, oddly enough despite walking past her completely ignorantly. They turned around to stare at her. Hermione put on her sternest "prefectorial" look, and stalked off, quickening her pace as she did.

Second of all, she saw Corrinne and Neville whispering amongst themselves as they walked towards her – and stopped short to stare at her.

Hermione had enough of people staring at her. "Is there something on my face?" she demanded hotly, already terribly worried at the prospect of Draco's alleged blackmailing of Astoria Greengrass being spread among the student population.

"N-no, Hermione, not at all!" Neville protested hastily. Then he looked at Corrinne uncertainly, and the blond-haired girl gestured to the common-room. Hermione raised her eyebrows, but Corrinne had already said the password, and was already pulling Neville in by the hand. Hermione followed suit, her heart racing. _Something is really not right._

The Gryffindor common-room was highly boisterous, a markedly different atmosphere from when Hermione usually entered it. She winced to think that most of the time, it was because she had ended up coming back very late due to her meetings with Malfoy, or the cave adventure. Corrinne's sharp eyes sought out Harry, Ron and Ginny at the corner of the room talking by themselves, and quickly made her way towards them. Neville and Hermione hurried along.

"What is it?" Hermione urged, once they were seated, her fear now evident.

"Is there something wrong?" Harry raised his eyebrows.

"If there's anything wrong, I'll bet it's that ferret!" Ron scowled.

Corrinne made an impatient noise. "Surprisingly, Ron, you're right for once." Before Ron could comment, she looked directly at an edgy Hermione and said,

"I think the next disappearing act is going to be Malfoy."

Hermione could hardly speak; terror was flooding her entire body.

Corrinne cast one last suspicious look at Hermione, then proceeded to relate what she and Neville had heard along the corridor. Hermione felt her heart sink with every word. _He was supposed to have informed her if he was facing trouble! Why did he..._her hand went to her robe pocket once again and brought out the coin.

Ginny recognised it. "That's something like our DA coin! Hermione, what's..."

"You're communicating with Malfoy through that?" The ever astute Corrinne glared at Hermione angrily.

Hermione stared at the coin miserably. No sign, nothing. Either he was trying to be too smart for his own good, or he was no match for whoever had been in the Room of Requirement. But that person had to be a Hogwarts student, there was no way somebody had infiltrated the grounds of Hogwarts without Professor Dumbledore knowing!

"Aren't you and Malfoy currently on really bad terms?" Ginny frowned. "He thought you were helping him all this while, then we barged in onto his secret, and..."

"I really have no time to explain." She looked at her friends desperately. "But Malfoy and I suspect a Slytherin student's behind Astoria Greengrass's disappearance."

"Have you heard what they have been saying?" Harry asked, frustratedly. "They are saying Malfoy did it!"

"I think this is going too far, Hermione." Ron was losing his temper again. "You keep shielding Malfoy from everything! Why can't you see him as the perpetrator like you used to?"

Hermione really had no energy to argue with Ron. "Look, there's no time. Can you guys please trust me?" She turned to Harry. "You can't not trust me, Harry!"

"You're emotionally blackmailing him!" cried Ron, putting a hand on Harry as if to pull him away from Hermione's pleas.

"You might be right though," said Neville, nervously, and everyone turned to look at him. "Corrinne and I think Malfoy and the other person headed towards the Slytherin common-room. It's most likely a Slytherin student."

"He could be _acting_!" Ron declared, in a furious whisper, as one or two Gryffindors started to look a bit interested in what they were discussing so heatedly about.

"I might hate that bloody idiot," Corrinne cut in, sharply. "But I don't think he was acting."

There was a brief silence. Corrinne sticking up for Malfoy was definitely unusual, and even Ron couldn't say anything to counter her.

"Is there something about Greengrass that you haven't told us about, Hermione?" asked Ginny, suddenly.

_Too many secrets..._Hermione remembered the pain in Draco's eyes when she admitted that she had betrayed him.

Before she could respond, Harry's eyes lighted up. "Dumbledore said that you and Malfoy discovered Wentervale's whereabouts through Wentervale's half-sister. He refused to tell us who this half-sister was though, except that she was a relative of one of the students in Hogwarts. Is the student now taking revenge or something by kidnapping Astoria Greengrass..."

"No," said Hermione, quietly. "The student was Astoria Greengrass. Or rather, students. I got the information from Daphne Greengrass actually."

"More secrets!" Ron suddenly deflated. "Hermione, what's wrong with you? You've never kept so many secrets from us before. We're supposed to be..."

"Best friends, I know." Hermione felt terrible. "I'm sorry, Ron, I wished I could. But if I had told you guys, you all would have jumped at the Greengrasses and demanded to know who this relative was."

Ron looked away, and Hermione felt her heart ache again. _How many apologies do I have to give out? Is it worth it that I'm doing this?_

She knew the answer the moment she asked that question, so she merely hung her head.

"Right now, there are three Horcruxes left to destroy, and then there are all these disappearances to deal with." Corrinne glared at Hermione sharply. "I don't think we have a lot more room for secrets."

Hermione's eyes remained shut. _Should I tell them about the diadem? But Draco..._

Nobody in Hogwarts would have known about the diadem, hence they had not planned to destroy it as of yet. Astoria Greengrass' and Severus Snape's disappearances were of priority right now, considering that it meant somebody was blackmailing Draco, and that the Death Eaters were getting ready to penetrate the walls of Hogwarts. And they were doing it via somebody within the school, thus this person had to be sought out right now.

Draco's mission had been to lure whoever it was to the Room of Requirement with the premise that he was a traitor and that he was going to retrieve something Voldemort treasured from the room. Hermione had predicted that whoever the other Slytherin Death-Eater was, would be more than eager to find out what Draco was up to. At the same time, he would leave the cup of Helga Hufflepuff there. Then he was supposed to have slipped out of the room using his Disillusionment Charm, in order to catch the spy red-handed. Whether or not he decided to pursue the person, he was supposed to have informed Hermione through the coin.

But he had not. And he had been taken hostage instead. How could that have happened?

She realised another problem with a dread: apart from this new Death Eater amongst the Slytherins, it would not be long before Augustus Rookwood found some way into Hogwarts in order to get the diadem.

"There's only one way to work this out now," muttered Harry, and Hermione quickly looked up again, her eyes filled with worry, pain and anxiety.

"What?" asked Ginny.

"Get to Daphne Greengrass."

* * *

**A/N:** The Partial Immobilisation charm is a figment of my imagination, not in canon.


	30. Lurking Around

**Disclaimer:** Ms Rowling's plots are really well thought-out right from the beginning when she was on that fateful train ride that spawned the concept of Harry Potter. I however, have a very messy way of planning, which I hope can only go well... hence this fanfic, while originally from me, has its concept hailing from that well thought out concept of Ms Rowling's.

**A/N:** Answers galore, and more questions again! It'll have to be that way till there are less puzzles to solve! I hope it's not too complicated as usual ;) Hope you guys enjoy this one (:

* * *

Hermione opened her mouth, but Harry shook his head. "No, this time _I_ do the planning. You just do what I say, Hermione. I don't know what's going on between you and Malfoy, but this time it's not just about his life. It's about Hogwarts. Dumbledore is getting weaker by the day after drinking the poisoned water, Snape's joined the Death Eaters again, and it seems that Voldemort is starting to penetrate our walls. I'm not going to sit here and watch people disappear one by one."

Hermione knew better than to tell Harry about Snape, so she nodded frantically. There were many thoughts in her head now, revolving around various scenarios in which Draco had been dragged back to Voldemort, to confess his sins. He could be tortured, killed, so many things... She could feel everything before her eyes blurring, if not for Harry reaching out to grab her shoulder in a firm grip.

"Not now, Hermione! We need you to calm down!"

And she tried her best to. Alongside fear and pain, there was a huge ball of guilt once again – but this time towards her friends. No questions, nothing. No more interrogations as to why she and Malfoy appeared to have made up. All they were concerned about was the plan, and they knew better to question her. She couldn't be more grateful, and at the same time, guilty that they were so understanding.

Harry refused to tell Dumbledore anything, because he wanted to get all the facts right first before he alerted the ailing Headmaster. Hermione was itching to ask Dumbledore about the secret keepers, and the possibility that weakening him had been part of a Death Eater ploy, but the defiant look on Harry's face kept her from doing anything. At the same time, Ron was not happy that Harry was asking Hermione to do something again _alone_, but he decided that it was probably the best option they had. Nobody else would be able to get anything out of Daphne Greengrass.

So as it was, Hermione made her way towards the Slytherin common-room under Harry's Invisibility Cloak. She and Draco had been replaced by another duo for their patrol duties given their earlier absence, and so Hermione did not really have much reason wandering around the corridors at this hour. Slipping past a couple of prefects, she headed towards the staircase that spiralled downwards to the Slytherin quarters. It was unnerving; as though she were about to enter a room full of evil. Not that she was too far from that though.

_Calm down; I could face a dragon, a powerful disfigured ex-Death Eater, an eighth of a soul of Voldemort, and a current mad Death Eater... and I can't face a bunch of Slytherins?_

But she had faced those obstacles with Draco Malfoy.

_Oh right, he was an obstacle too, wasn't he? The boy who was supposed to succeed his father to become the next recruit in the ranks of the Dark._

Gritting her teeth, she walked on. When she came to the staircase, she wasn't very sure what to do. Harry had said to try to accost a Slytherin nearby, but there weren't any Slytherins in sight. Going all the way down to the dungeons would be highly inappropriate as well.

Sighing, she pulled out her wand. Then she whispered a spell.

A jet of light shot out from her wand, and ricocheted off the staircase downwards. As it ricocheted, there were rather audible 'ping!' sounds that echoed along. Thankfully, it didn't seem very loud on ground level, although Hermione winced with every sound she heard.

Within minutes, there was a rather scrawny first-year with a suspicious expression who crawled up the staircase, wand in hand. He surveyed left and right, and then with furrowed eyebrows, appeared to want to retreat back down the stairway.

Hermione quickly cast the Silencing Charm over the boy as she grabbed him by the robe collar. Screaming without any sound, the boy kicked and tussled, but she threw the Cloak over him and placed her lighted wand over his face as she knocked him to the ground. For some reason, she felt a little triumphant seeing the boy's horrified face as he realised who had grabbed him and doubled him over.

"G..Granger?" he gasped incredulously, once Hermione had muttered the counter-spell.

"Yes, Jeremy Farthings. And it would do some respect to get your hands off my wrists."

"Talk about yourself!" Jeremy gasped, wrenching her hands away from him, but still lying on the floor breathing heavily. "What the hell are you doing!" He stared around him. "Is this... is this a..."

Hermione took a deep breath. _I've handled Draco Malfoy. Jeremy Farthings is nothing._ "That's none of your concern. I need your help."

Jeremy's eyes snapped back to her, and he snorted derisively. "Harry Potter's best friend, asking a lowly first-year Slytherin for help? Have you gone batty? Everybody knows you're such an _insufferable know-it-all_!" Hermione cringed to hear Snape's exact words to her in third year being used against her once again. "So how could you possibly need help from me?"

"Well, not you _per se_." Hermione rolled her eyes. "I want to speak to Daphne Greengrass. Get... get down there and call her up for me."

Jeremy stared at her incredulously, then quickly made to get up, but Hermione pinned him down again with her wand. His eyes grew suspicious again. "What do you need her for at this hour?"

"Are you questioning me?" Hermione glared at him. "Do you want me to dock points off Slytherin?"

"You can't be serious!" Jeremy seethed with anger.

"Do I look like I'm not?" Hermione replied, coolly.

Cursing, Jeremy pushed aside Hermione's wand and stormed down the stairway. Hermione wondered if he was really going to listen to her, or that he might send a whole army of Slytherins up to kidnap her as well. The thought of that made her shudder, but she didn't have to worry much, for the familiar brown tresses of Daphne Greengrass appeared at the bottom of the staircase.

Hermione opened the Cloak a little to reveal her face. "Greengrass, can we talk?"

"Do I have anything to say to you, except that you're a bitch?" Daphne sneered. "Maybe if you tell me where my sister is, I could consider being on friendly terms with you?"

Hermione's patience with Slytherins was wearing thin. "I have nothing to do with your sister's disappearance, and I just want to find out from you more so that I can try to help!"

"Help? You and Malfoy are one kind!" Daphne hissed. "Pretending to be a martyr, aren't you two? Giving my grandmother away..." She looked around carefully before she continued. "And then making her give you secrets, and then my sister gets all edgy, and then snap of a finger! She's gone! Such a beautiful plan!" She moved up one step. "I don't know what's going on between the two of you – one of whom's a Death Eater, and one of whom's Harry Potter's best friend. You two are nemeses, and you two ganged up to steal our pendants and hurt our family. You had just better scram before I get the rest of the Slytherins to come upon you, mark my words!"

That was one of Daphne Greengrass' longest speeches, and the exhaustion on her face showed.

"Can you come up?" Hermione suddenly felt very tired, not to mention hurting from the mention of Draco's name. "Malfoy's missing."

That totally caught Daphne's attention. Her jaw dropped. "What?"

Hermione had expected Daphne to laugh at her, so she was a little surprised at her genuine shock. "He's missing. He's supposed to... can you please just come up? I'm afraid somebody will hear."

She could hardly believe she was saying all this to a Slytherin. But when Daphne did come up, albeit reluctantly and warily, she whipped the Cloak over Daphne as well, and they both headed towards a very quiet corner of Hogwarts.

When they were safely in the shadows of the corner, Hermione pulled the Cloak away and sat down. Daphne stared at her, then followed suit, her suspicious gaze never leaving Hermione.

"What is going on?"

"I thought you were going to dismiss my words," Hermione replied, frankly. "But I suspect somebody in your house has also got wind of the pendants, and wanted to blackmail Malfoy for it. At the same time, somebody has – sort of kidnapped Malfoy... I just have my sources."

Daphne was silent for a while, before she asked. "What is going on with you and Malfoy?"

Hermione didn't know whether to reveal anything to Daphne, so she hesitated before saying, "What has D... Malfoy been telling you?"

Daphne looked away. "He's always been the way he is – scheming, cold, sly, dangerous."

"Then why are you so surprised that he's missing?"

The Slytherin girl was not happy to be interrogated, and it showed in her flashing eyes. "He's been asking me about my sister's disappearance. I accused him of taking her away... but..." She paused. "It – doesn't seem like it anymore."

"Why not?"

Daphne refused to answer; her mouth was set in a firm line.

"Have you told anyone about the pendants?"

"No," came the curt reply. But Hermione persisted.

"Has anyone asked you about the pendants?"

This time, Daphne went rigid.

"Daphne." Hermione decided to switch to a first-name basis in order to show that she wasn't being hostile. "I really need to know who that is."

There was still no answer.

"Malfoy and I..." Hermione steadied herself. "Have a deal to help him find out how his father was killed. I was trying to get close to him for Harry's sake, but he hadn't any idea, he thought he could use my brains. Your grandmother's half-brother knew about the story, and hence we needed to get to him. That's why I had to get Malfoy to steal your pendants in order to lure your grandmother out. That is all I can say for now. But at present, it seems that somebody has found out about all these, and wants to frame Malfoy. This person wants to make Malfoy seem like a traitor to the Death Eaters, and is kidnapping your sister to do that. For the sake of your sister, you should really co-operate."

"And why do you care whether Malfoy is a traitor or not?" Daphne shot back, coldly.

"I don't think that's the crux of the matter." Of course, Hermione _did_ care about anything related to Draco Malfoy, but she couldn't possibly tell that to Daphne. "The point is that your sister has been kidnapped by someone who is definitely related to the Death Eaters. Which means that there is _another_ one of them lurking in the walls of Hogwarts, and has the ability to wreak havoc. Malfoy can't even try to be funny because everyone knew for sure that he will become one. Do you get my point?"

The thought of another Death Eater in the Slytherin common-room made Daphne look terribly pale and frightened, all suspicion (and colour) on her face ebbing away. It was clear that now she was beginning to envision her sister being in terrible danger, and worse, herself being the next target.

Then to Hermione's alarm, the Slytherin girl began to burst into sobs.

"Greengrass..." She began awkwardly, but Daphne sobbed harder.

"Greengrass! Stop crying!" Hermione was beginning to despair. "Who is it who knows?"

It would have to take a long while more before she could extract anything out of the sobbing girl.

-.-.-.-.-.-

"I still don't understand how Rookwood could have got to you," whispered Draco, through his teeth, as he found himself shoved to a corner of what seemed to be a cell, still partially immobilised. "You're not even a Death Eater!"

Pansy simply leant against the wall at the other corner, surveying him with a stony expression.

"And I don't understand why you have to kidnap Astoria. She's not involved in all this!"

Pansy raised one eyebrow. "You mean she is?"

"She's _not_!" repeated Draco, angrily.

"Then Granger is?"

"NO! Of course n..."

"Of course she is."

Draco didn't even have to turn his head to see who it was. "Rookwood!"

"Oh, Draco, you can't expect me not to come chasing after what you so nicely placed into my hands, can you?" Rookwood laughed sinisterly, his eyes glinting with manic delight. "Pansy, my dear, will you?"

He gestured towards a pouch half-concealed by Pansy's robes. She untied the pouch and when she held it up, the shape of the diadem was unmistakeable.

"NO!" Draco roared, but he only succeeded in twisting his neck a little by the force of his yell, and it made him yell louder in pain.

Pansy cast one look at Draco, then suddenly, the sinister look on her face dissipated. Instead, she lowered the pouch and stared coldly at Rookwood.

"How do I know you'll keep part of your deal?"

Draco shut his mouth and stared.

"Pansy." Rookwood's smile remained. "Surely up to this point, when you've already got Draco here, you can't possibly be questioning my integrity?"

"You have none to speak of." Pansy's eyes narrowed. "If you want to prove it, you have to tell me why this diadem is so important to You-Know-Who, and what you want with it."

"If I have to explain everything to you, Miss Parkinson," Rookwood's face had hardened, "then you can be assured that your boyfriend will be well and truly implicated."

For one moment, Draco thought Rookwood had linked Pansy and him together, but Pansy's angry retort soon enlightened him. "You crook! Don't treat me like a fool. You've an ulterior motive behind all this, and I don't think it's anything to do with You-Know-Who! My request is paltry compared to what you are planning to achieve! You think I don't know how important this crown is to You-Know-Who? You think I don't know I could die by doing this?" She cast a quick glance at Draco when she said that, before glaring back at Rookwood. "I am sacrificing my life, while all you have to do is just slip in a few words about how Blaise won't be suitable for becoming a Death Eater!"

So that was it. Pansy was doing this for Blaise. She didn't want Blaise to join the Death Eaters, when both she and Draco knew all along that Blaise did have an inclination towards the Dark side, even more than Draco ever had, but he was too young to join their ranks. If anything, it was likely possible that the Dark Lord would recruit one more just to ensure that if Draco failed, there was someone else to carry on the work.

If he could laugh, Draco was sure it would be extremely bitter-sounding. To think he hardly knew anything about both Pansy and Blaise when he hung out with them all day in the past.

_In the past._

But what was Pansy thinking?

"I must give you more credit then, Pansy," replied Rookwood, smirking. "Why, I have yet to thank you for listening to me, allowing me to intrude your fireplace, placing the Portkey in a secluded area of your Slytherin dungeons, and luring Draco here for me. And of course, retrieving the diadem. It is a job well done. But you must also bear in mind who I am, and what I am capable of doing. You either take my word as it is, or you die. It is very simple."

"Don't you kill her!" Draco suddenly shouted, furious with Rookwood for manipulating Pansy.

Pansy turned to look at him in mild surprise, before she turned back a fierce gaze to Rookwood. "Fine, you win! But you had better keep your word, or I'll swear I'll get you even if I die!"

"Pansy, no!" The Partial Immobilisation charm had suddenly worn off, and just as Pansy was about to throw the pouch towards the ground, Draco leapt up and grabbed the pouch from her before either Pansy or Rookwood could react.

Rookwood reached out for his wand, but Draco was equally fast by pulling out the wand that was in Pansy's hand – his wand. In her shock, she had let go, and he was able to wield it at Rookwood. Both of them were now pointing wands at each other, with Pansy staring in horror right in the middle of them both.

"Pansy, back off!" snarled Draco, but Pansy could hardly move with Rookwood's wand just an inch away from her neck.

"Try moving," purred the older Death Eater. "And the deal will be worse than being called off."

"I'm sorry, Draco," whispered Pansy, the scheming mask completely torn down, with tears trickling down her cheeks as she turned slightly to face him. "I'm really sorry I did this."

"Shut up, Pansy, it's not your fault!" Draco glared directly at Rookwood when he said that.

"Oh, Draco, really." Augustus Rookwood sounded almost sorrowful. "You should stop deluding young girls with all that sweet talk of yours. First it was Hermione Granger, then it's Pansy Parkinson?"

Draco's eyes flashed at the mention of Hermione Granger. "You're the one who's deluding young girls to make deals with them that you won't keep! Tell me where Astoria Greengrass is!"

There was a flicker of confusion in Rookwood's eyes. "Who?"

"Don't try to be funny with me, you..."

"Draco, you've got it wrong," whispered Pansy, her head tilting back with Rookwood's wand pointing closer. "He's not Astoria's kidnapper."

Draco's eyes did not leave Rookwood, but he was definitely confused now, too. "What?"

"A kidnapping?" Rookwood mused. "This is interesting. There are many games in Hogwarts now I see!"

"I thought Daphne would have told you I suspected Millicent Bulstrode."

"I thought it was a lie!"

"SILENCE!" Rookwood bellowed, and the two Slytherins shot him repulsive looks.

"Patience wearing thin, Rookwood?" Draco snickered, even though he was not as courageous as he hoped he sounded. "I know you're not going to kill me, because you want me to help you find out the other secrets, don't you?"

"What are these secrets..." Pansy began, but was silenced when Rookwood eyed her coldly for a split second.

"Trust me, Pansy, you're better off not knowing," Draco muttered.

"Yes, you are right, Mr Malfoy." Rookwood managed a twisted smile. "I do need you alive for that reason. Let me see... there are about three more, are there not? With every one I claim for myself, I can absorb the strength of the soul for myself..." And Draco's eyes widened in horror. "Which is how I will claim the position for myself eventually."

It didn't have to take a genius to figure out what Rookwood was planning; even Pansy looked positively horrified.

"_Absorb?_"

"Unfortunately, you don't have the power nor skill to perform such a spell, Draco," said Rookwood, smirking. "Otherwise maybe your meddlesome Mudblood friend might have been able to kill me the last time we met. Speaking of which..."

Draco's eyes narrowed into slits.

"Why does he keep mentioning Granger?" whispered Pansy.

"Pansy, not now."

"I can disarm you anytime, Draco." Rookwood's smile grew wider. "I'm skilled at wordless spells, you know that. You're no match for me."

That was true. And it was an irritating fact.

"The two of you are going to stay here. Quietly. _Put that wand down._" Rookwood gave a twisted, menacing glare to Draco, who snarled as he lowered his wand. "Very good, now..." He cocked his head to one side. "Maybe I should really find your meddlesome Mudblood friend to keep you company too..."

"YOU LEAVE HER ALONE!" Draco exploded, startling even Pansy.

"Oho!" Rookwood smirked. "I see!"

"See WHAT?" Draco wished he knew wordless spells well enough to toss Rookwood up and down like a ragdoll.

"Well, maybe you might want to crack your brains a bit. If you tell me the locations of the other Horcruxes, I might consider sparing that Mudblood's life. Pansy?"

Pansy didn't have much choice; Rookwood simply reached out to nick the pouch she was holding. Draco made to grab, but Rookwood's wand forced him backwards.

"Damn you..." Pansy gritted her teeth, her eyes shining furiously.

With that, Rookwood turned and walked out of the cell, the door slamming behind him as he left.

"COME BACK, YOU BASTARD! COME BACK!" Draco yelled as he ran forward, only to have the door slam on him. He clung onto the bars of the door, shaking it hard till the clanging of the metal reverberated around the whole place. "AUGUSTUS ROOKWOOD, YOU..."

"Draco, stop it!" Pansy pulled him back. "It's no use!"

"Bloody hell!" Draco slammed his fists against the bars, perspiration dripping down his forehead. He could hardly imagine what Augustus Rookwood would do in order to capture Hermione... and what he would do to make her tell him everything that she knew... and the diadem – he could feel the curved shape of the fang pressing against him in the pouch that hung by his waist – it would be destroyed by Rookwood and he would gain power. Killing one Dark Lord only to make another didn't sound like a good plan at all.

He sank to the ground, breathing heavily, a disgusted expression on his face.

"What are those secrets?" demanded Pansy, who slowly sat down. "And what's that Mudblood got to do with that?"

Draco ran his hand through his straggly blond hair and closed his eyes. "Everything. Everything..."

-.-.-.-.-.-

By the time Hermione had gotten back to the Gryffindor common-room, it was in the wee hours of the morning. The others, who had stayed up to wait for her, were now lying in a heap near the fireplace, sound asleep. However, Corrinne awoke when Hermione came closer, and startled the rest of them awake as well.

"I'm glad those Slytherins didn't do anything funny," was Ron's first sentence, and Hermione sighed inwardly at his concern, wishing wholeheartedly that she didn't have to make him angry in the first place.

"So how did it go?" urged Ginny, in a low voice.

Hermione looked a bit uncomfortable recalling Daphne Greengrass' breakdown. "She... she said that there was someone in Slytherin who asked her what was going on between her sister and Malfoy. It seems the person picked out that there was some conflict going on between them."

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"I don't know how, really." Hermione threw up her hands. "Astoria Greengrass must have been really angry with Malfoy. Daphne said she didn't want to tell, but then apparently he had heard about something going missing and... she immediately thought that he knew about the pendants. So she didn't exactly tell him, but clearly, he got a lot more out of her than I think she thought he knew."

"Who is... _he_?" asked Harry, slowly.

Hermione bit her lip. "Blaise Zabini."

There was a pregnant pause.

"Zabini?" Corrinne frowned. "He was never close with the Greengrasses. How'd he know about anything?"

"Isn't he Malfoy's best mate?" Neville asked sensibly, and everyone looked at him thoughtfully.

"Zabini..." A light seemed to go off in Harry.

"Might I add," said Hermione, remembering earlier on in the evening. "Zabini was looking for somebody last night in the corridors. I don't know who, or why, but that definitely looked like what he was doing. And he looked at me like – I don't know, he looked at me in a really weird way."

"He knows there's something going on between you and Malfoy," muttered Ron.

"I would think so," mumbled Hermione, feeling the antagonistic edge of Ron's voice once again.

"Was Zabini looking for Malfoy then?" asked Neville.

Hermione hadn't the faintest idea. Right now she was just feeling terribly guilty and miserable and worried sick. She wished she hadn't let Draco gone on the mission alone; she should have followed him! She should have made sure that he was safe. Now he was missing and she hadn't a clue where he might be. She couldn't possibly just go up to Zabini and confront him, demanding where Draco and Astoria might be.

"There's something about Zabini that I want to say... but I can't exactly remember what it is..." Harry scratched his head. "It was on the edge of my tongue and then suddenly, I can't remember!"

Hermione stared at him. "Harry..."

"Don't force him!" Ginny's voice came out a little fiercer than she had intended it to be. "Let him think!"

"Harry, bring out your Marauder's Map!" Ron suddenly broke in, excitedly. "We could see if we could find Malfoy or Greengrass or Zabini!"

"Why didn't I think of that earlier?" Harry broke out of his reverie and dashed up to the dormitory. Within a minute, he was back down with the map. Quickly, they gathered around him as he tapped his wand against the parchment.

"_I solemnly swear that I am up to no good_," whispered Harry, and the familiar patterns began to appear on the yellowed parchment. Hermione held her breath, fervently praying that some sign would lead them towards the missing people.

There were no signs of Astoria and Draco. Hermione anxiously scanned the Slytherin common-room. Strangely enough, Zabini was not there in the mass of Slytherin names that were popping up.

Corrinne's sharp eyes had spotted him. Her finger jabbed at the spot.

He was walking.

In the middle of the night.

And he was walking towards the staff quarters.

"Can't any of the staff – even Dumbledore – notice that there's someone lurking around there?" demanded Ron.

"The last time we could meet McGonagall, we didn't seem to have any problems." Harry reminded him.

"We had your Cloak, Harry!"

"Disillusionment Charm," Hermione said quietly.

"That's Advanced Charms!" Corrinne gasped.

"If Zabini is a Death Eater as well, he would know it." Hermione suddenly felt as though she'd give anything to feel that familiar wet feeling trickle down her skin, if only that it meant Draco Malfoy was nearby charming her invisible. "Malfoy knew it."

Ron threw her another suspicious look, but she avoided it.

"Who's he looking for?" asked Ginny.

They watched as the Zabini marker hesitated. Then he stepped towards one of the rooms.

"Professor Slughorn?"


	31. Signs of a Saviour

**Disclaimer:** This is merely a work of fanfiction; all Harry Potter-related characters and plot details are intellectual property of Ms Rowling.

**A/N:** There's a whole lot of swearing in this chapter, which I apologise for, but would have to stick by it because everyone's getting confused and frustrated. But from the next chapter onwards, there's all kinds of action. Hope that will be exciting (:

Meanwhile, do enjoy this one, and let me know how you've liked my fic so far! (: Shoutouts of thanks to my reviewers, and those who added me on alerts/favs, really appreciate it! (:

* * *

"What on earth is Zabini doing with Slughorn at this hour?" demanded Ron, with a disgusted look on his face. "Sucking up to that frog face?"

"And why would Slughorn still be up in his office waiting for Zabini? He's usually off to bed by now!" Harry whispered, getting excited. "Which can only mean that this is a planned meeting!"

They stared at the parchment for a while. Zabini had entered Slughorn's office and seemed to stay there for a while.

Suddenly, the marker vanished.

"Oh!" Hermione gasped.

"Where'd he go?" Ron stared in disbelief, trying to make out if Zabini had vanished to another place in Hogwarts.

But he was no longer on the map.

"He can't have Apparated!" Ginny frowned. "Or did Slughorn Vanish him?"

"Whatever for!" Ron was completely bewildered.

"Does a Death Eater have the ability to Apparate, since he's well aware of Advanced Charms?" Corrinne turned her fiery red eyes towards Hermione, who shook her head.

"I think..." Hermione turned towards the fireplace. "That's where he went."

"What?"

"He was standing right here when he entered the office." Hermione jabbed at the parchment. "He wasn't standing _near_ Slughorn. He didn't go there just to talk to Slughorn, he wanted to get out of Hogwarts. And that's the exact place where Slughorn's fireplace is."

"You're right!" Harry realised. "He must have travelled by Floo!"

"Slughorn let him use his fireplace to travel out of Hogwarts?" Ron stared, skeptically. "Are we saying that Slughorn is now _one of them_ too?"

"He was approached by them several times," reminded Harry, pushing up his spectacles and looking very grim. "Either that, or Zabini could have blackmailed him. He's one of the most naive professors around, and he's got plenty to lose – this job is the only thing keeping him safe, if he's innocent."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" demanded Corrinne, impatiently.

"We can't just go barging in on Slughorn after the last incident!" Ron suddenly sounded rather clearheaded. Then he shot Hermione a rather pointed look. "Not least after we were made to look like idiots when he didn't remember a thing about the Party."

Hermione looked abashed.

"I'm getting a little confused here," mumbled Neville, and they all looked at him. "Okay actually, never mind..."

"No, you're right, Neville," Ginny jumped in. "There're too many things happening at one time and we're not drawing links. Are we assuming that Zabini kidnapped Astoria Greengrass and Draco Malfoy?"

"I think we can be fairly sure he kidnapped Greengrass," said Harry, who suddenly looked enlightened about something.

Hermione stared at him. "Why are you so sure? Remember, Astoria was abducted from her bed. Daphne said Pansy Parkinson had only seen Millicent Bulstrode leave the room and come back. Nobody else appeared to have left the room."

"Zabini and Parkinson are together!" Harry stared back, triumphantly. "That's what I wanted to say! I've been noticing that Parkinson has been hanging out with him so often that it's a bit unusual considering she used to have all these girls tagging along with her."

Hermione recalled the first day when she went to find Daphne Greengrass at the frozen lake. True enough, Pansy Parkinson had not been with the gang of Slytherins. Neither had Blaise Zabini. Even though they were supposed to be always with Draco Malfoy, Pansy in particular had always been chummy with her girls. Hermione wondered why she never took notice of this earlier.

"So," continued Harry. "We can't possibly take Parkinson's words for it. Either Zabini would be able to get into the girls' dormitory fairly successfully because Parkinson gave the password to him, or that she had abducted Astoria herself. If Zabini is really able to perform that whatever-Disillusionment Charm, then he would have been able to silence and make Astoria invisible in order to get her out of the room."

"That sounds like a very plausible theory," Ginny mused.

Suddenly, something struck Hermione's mind – like a bolt of lightning that illuminated everything clearly for her – and she could have slapped herself for not thinking of this earlier.

"Rookwood! That's who is getting Zabini in to do all this! He must be trying to stop Dra – Malfoy from getting to the ..."

She stopped short. Malfoy had not wanted the rest to know about the diadem Horcrux.

"The...?" Harry stared at her.

It occurred to her that maybe she should really check on the diadem.

She grabbed the Cloak of Invisibility beside her and swung it over herself.

"Hermione!" Harry gasped in alarm, as his best friend disappeared before his eyes. "Someone stop her!"

But Hermione was already up and running towards the portrait hole. She was out before the rest could shut the door on her.

Running, and running...

Panting heavily, Hermione ran up the stairs, her heart thumping crazily. Not just because she was running, but because she was now terribly worried and frightened. Neville was right – everything was confusing and befuddling her, she didn't know where they should start... and right now she really wished that at least Draco Malfoy was beside her telling her to stop worrying the hell out of herself – that kind of curt reminder might do her flustered self a little good.

She came before the wall of the Room of Requirement.

Steeling her nerves, she paced up and down outside the Room, remembering what Draco had told her about how he had opened it. _I want a place where I can hide something... Hide something..._

No door.

She stopped and groaned in despair. She didn't have anything to hide, that must be why.

Hermione dug around her robe pockets. But she knew... she didn't have anything valuable enough.

There was nothing else – but Harry's Cloak of Invisibility.

_Nooo... Harry won't forgive me!_

But there was little she could do. She couldn't possibly risk running back into the common-room for fear of the rest stopping her and forcing everything out of her.

She closed her eyes and resumed pacing. _I want a place where I can hide..._

Finally, to her relief, the outline of the door appeared.

Quickly, she entered the musty room, slamming the door after her.

There were all kinds of things in the room – a rickety ladder, scattered books, old cupboards, rusty poles, a haphazard pile of dusty Gryffindor Quidditch jerseys... Hermione took off the Cloak and stepped through the mess gingerly. The air was rather choking, and she coughed as she made her way to the end of the room.

Then she spun around, and an idea came to her. Harry's Cloak had the same outer colour as the Quidditch jerseys; nobody would know the difference!

She tiptoed through, scanning around in hope to see the bust of Rowena Ravenclaw that Draco had described. But everywhere was mostly furniture and old books and metal pieces; she could hardly see...

Her hands were removing the jerseys, when she noticed what was beneath them. Her heartbeat accelerating, she quickly took them off –

She had found it.

But there was no diadem.

Hermione placed her hand on the bare top of the bust, only to sweep off a layer of dust and grime. But the stone below sparkled occasionally. She looked down at the floor.

No diadem.

Was it destroyed? Was it...

Hermione didn't even know if she was feeling despair or outrage... a sudden emptiness had overcome her.

No answers. All these questions in her head – none of them were meeting with answers. She couldn't even tell if the missing diadem was because Draco had destroyed it, or that Rookwood had reached it first. She couldn't even tell what had happened to Draco. But...

It then occurred to her that Draco would not have destroyed the diadem unless he was forced to.

She gently placed Harry's Invisibility Cloak in the midst of the jerseys and put the whole pile back where it was. She knew better than to defy what she originally asked the Room of Requirement for; the Room was notorious for not letting people out until it used the Room for the intended purpose.

Then she stood up.

_Draco would not have destroyed the diadem unless he was forced to._

Which meant that he had met with trouble here. In the Room of Requirement.

But how did the person know the key to coming into this particular room? Draco had apparently only visited this Room twice – the first time was the disposal of the pendants, the second being the Hufflepuff Cup. Even somebody who followed him wouldn't have known exactly how to come in... how did Zabini know?

Hermione moved around, touching the sides of the rather ominous-looking armchair with its arms curling in like a monster's, fingering the dusty teak of a cupboard. She tried to open it, but it was locked. She pulled out her wand, but the Unlocking Charm did not work. Frowning, she moved onto another cupboard. This, too, was locked.

She then came to a pile of huge framed paintings stacked up on the ground. She privately wondered who would sneak in such large paintings. Then she realised that they were defaced and ripped at certain parts, with rather grouchy occupants that were throwing insults at her when she walked by. The chorus of cries and yells and shouts grew louder as she stared. Wincing, she tried to walk away from them.

Instead, she tripped.

"Ow!"

She broke her fall with her hands, nearly missing the edge of a frame. Clambering up, she heard a very tiny voice shout amidst all the yelling,

"Get this thing off me! I can't sleep! Get it off, you stupid girl!"

Hermione stared at the first painting, which was a rather sulky looking witch who yelled at her to stop staring. But she was standing, so it didn't seem like she was the owner of the voice. Quickly, she removed the first painting, and the second – a rather nasty-looking goblin – and then she saw who had spoken. It was a grumpy old wizard in his pyjamas, sitting on a bed looking terribly black-faced. He pointed at the middle of his bed and glared at Hermione.

"REMOVE IT NOW!" he screamed, shrilly.

Hermione looked perplexed. "There's nothing there!"

"No, you silly girl, whatever you put underneath! Or was it you? Oh who cares! Get it out NOW! I WANT MY SLEEP!"

Hermione realised that he meant what was _under the flap_, or rather part of the picture had been torn, so there was a massive flap that was hanging off the picture. She reached behind and the wizard yelped,

"Get your fat fingers out of there NOW!"

"I need to pull it out!" Hermione retorted, and her fingers touched something cold and hard. Surprised, she yanked it out. The wizard yelled again, and screamed a rude insult. But Hermione was not listening.

She stared at the offending object in her fingers.

It was a ring.

"Oho, so that's what it was! You girls should know better than to leave your precious things lying around and sticking it beneath my bed! I couldn't sleep the whole day!" And the wizard gave a loud "hrrrumphh!" before he clambered into bed and turned his back on Hermione, pretending to snore very loudly.

Hermione stood up, and held the ring up. She turned it slowly, and noticed that there were carvings.

She brought it closer to her eyes, and let out a soft gasp.

The word 'PARKINSON' was clearly etched into the inside of the ring.

"What was she doing here?" Hermione whispered in disbelief.

But it all fit. Blaise must have told Pansy about Astoria Greengrass, and she must have tailed Draco to this Room. She had somehow found the clue to this room was to bring something precious and hide it, and she had hidden her ring. And she must have been the one who kidnapped Draco.

This just heightened the complexity of things. If she had kidnapped Draco, then who had Blaise been looking for? The way he stared at Hermione earlier on – he could only have been looking for either of the two.

If Blaise had kidnapped Astoria, and Pansy had kidnapped Draco...

Unless they both had different agendas?

Hermione stared at the ring in despair.

Then suddenly, her hand dove into her robe pocket and pulled out the coin. If he wasn't going to message her, then she'd do the messaging.

"Please tell me you're okay..." she whispered, her breath faint. Then she closed her eyes and muttered some words, as she pressed her thumb on the coin and raised her wand over it.

-.-.-.-.-.-

"Damn it, this lock doesn't open!" Draco sank down after multiple times of casting spells at the door.

"Draco, what exactly is going on? What's with the crown, and why is Rookwood against you – I mean, aren't you all supposed to be..."

"Death Eaters?" Draco snorted. "We're _fakes_, that's why."

He couldn't be bothered to hide the truth anymore; there was no point in keeping allegiance with the Dark Lord – not only was he dying to stab the diadem with the fang in his robes, the thought of Rookwood becoming even stronger than the Dark Lord – or should he say,_Voldemort_, was nauseating, to say the least.

"I don't understand..." Pansy backed into the wall. "I could tell you were furious at being asked to be part of them... but then I thought..."

"Yeah, in the end, I still got sealed with a kiss," Draco replied sarcastically, as he rolled up his sleeve to watch the black mass swirl into the sinister Dark Mark. Pansy did not flinch; she was eyeing Draco with a confused look. "Look Pansy, if I have to tell you the whole story now, we'd be dead by the time I'm barely halfway through. On the other hand, I seriously need to know how the hell you got involved in this, so that I can figure out how to get out of here, how to get that diadem back, and what has happened to Astoria!"

Pansy was about to argue, but she saw the glint in Draco's eyes – he would do anything just to get the information out of her. Obviously between Draco and Rookwood, she trusted Draco more. Sighing, she looked away.

"What exactly do you want to know?"

"Maybe you could start with how the bloody hell you knew about the Room of Requirement – have you been tailing me?" Draco glared daggers at her.

"It's not my fault that you were so _bloody_ obvious coming out from that door," Pansy shot back, coldly. "I saw you some other day walking out from there, and I wanted to know what you were doing in there. When I came to the door – or wall, rather, the door had disappeared – I figured it was the same room Potter and his stupid gang used last year in their fight against Umbridge. We found it altogether, if you can recall."

"Some other day?" The only other day was when he went to dispose the Greengrasses' pendants in the room. He could have slapped his forehead. In his hurry to join Blaise for class, he had been fairly oblivious to being subtle.

"I can guess – you were trying to hide the pendants you stole from Astoria and Daphne, right?"

Draco's eyes snapped wide open; he stared at her in utter horror. "How did you know?"

Pansy refused to look at him, her hands balled up tightly into fists. "Astoria had been looking relatively uneasy of late. She knew that Granger was with you when you went to Dumbledore's office, when nobody knew – even Potter was going around looking for her while Blaise and I were finding you. Speaking of which..."

"No, Pansy, I told you I won't explain till you finish," Draco cut in, thickly.

Pansy threw him a vicious look, then she turned away again. "So Blaise and I suspected something was wrong between you and Astoria, which was really strange considering you two weren't close. Blaise finally went to ask Daphne about it..."

"That bleathead!" Draco exclaimed, furiously. "And she told me no one knew!"

"You said she is a bleathead," replied Pansy, in a bored voice. "Do you expect anything less?"

Draco didn't like being told, however indirect, that he was stupid for believing Daphne Greengrass. "Get on with it."

Pansy was irritated with Draco's tone, but she could sense that he was terribly desperate to know what she had to say, so she continued. "Well, somehow Blaise managed to get out of Daphne the fact that their pendants were stolen by you, and it was the night before I saw you come out of the room. So I had a good feeling you had used that room to hide the pendants."

Draco felt as if he hadn't given Pansy much credit for her intuition before. But he decided not to look too amazed, and scowled instead.

"But before we could do anything, Rookwood had invaded my fireplace that night." Pansy gritted her teeth. "He accessed it by invading _my own home_ – he threatened my parents into lending him the fireplace. He said he would make sure I wouldn't return home if they refused him."

It was Draco's turn to curl his fingers into fists. Augustus Rookwood was a Death Eater through and through – cold, cruel, and downright callous.

"So he told me that there was this crown belonging to Rowena Ravenclaw in Hogwarts, and demanded that I find it for him. I told him this place is humongous, but he wouldn't listen, he even threatened to kill my parents. But I knew that he wouldn't, because even though we are neutral, my father had assisted some of the Death Eaters before. So I gave him a condition – to make sure Blaise didn't join the Death Eaters."

"I can't believe you two are..." Draco muttered under his breath.

"Rookwood agreed, then he added you know about the place. When he said that, suddenly I felt that the room you came out from was highly suspicious. It was the perfect place to hide something nobody else could find, as long as you told the room to turn into something you wanted it to be."

Pansy gave a mirthless chuckle. "I was so silly. You should have seen me. Taking things outside the room every day at a time when no one would see me. Asking the room to let me hide something. Hide something important to me. Hide something close to me. I couldn't possibly say 'hide the diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw'; I didn't have it! But eventually I figured it out."

"Hide something precious."

_Trial-and-error!_ To think Pansy Parkinson had revealed his secret through trial-and-error! Draco didn't know whether to laugh or to be incensed. It was so stupid. He was so stupid. How could he have let Pansy notice?

"I wasn't even hiding the diadem." He chortled fakely. "The diadem was in the room all along. The first time I used the pendants, remember?"

"Well, clearly it worked anyway." Pansy shrugged her shoulders. "I had brought along a photograph of Blaise and I."

Draco raised his eyebrows.

"Shut up."

"I'm not saying anything."

Pansy glared at him. "WELL, when I went in, I discovered the diadem by mistake really, because I saw the Gryffindor Quidditch jerseys. I was reminded of that bitch who knocked Blaise off his broom during the last match."

Corrinne Whitemayer. The thought of her made Draco feel ill. The insults she had thrown at him about his father. And now she had indirectly made Pansy discover his secret. _Screw you, Whitemayer..._

"So I threw those jerseys into the far end."

"Right." Draco scowled till his cheek muscles ached. But he was really that pissed off. "I suppose thereafter you trailed me again to find out when I'd next go there, right?"

"Wasn't too long. You told that Mudblood..."

Draco made a growling noise. Pansy stared at him in surprise.

"What is with the two of you? How come Granger got mixed up with everything? You were so rude to her in Arithmancy the other time, and then later in Defence Against the Dark Arts, you lent her your textbook! I wanted to say something about it, but Blaise said it was best not to interfere with your moods."

"Damn right, that boy was," muttered Draco. "Can you carry on first?"

Pansy uttered a rude word, before she threw a glare at Draco once again. "Since you were so happily _stuck_ in the broom cupboard, I thought I'd made a move ahead of you after hearing you say you were going that night. So I brought my family heirloom ring to open the room, and took back the photograph." She took the dusty photograph out of her pocket and stared hard at it. "And then you came. End of story. Now would you..."

"It was an act, Pansy. I meant for you to turn up."

"That doesn't matter now, does it?" Pansy retorted, stiffly. "All that matters is that we're both now stuck here, and Rookwood could just roast us alive!"

Suddenly, Draco felt a vibration in his pocket.

_The coin!_

This was the second time he had totally forgotten about it. Swearing loudly, he took it out, and saw that he had a message.

From Hermione Granger.

_WHERE ARE YOU?_

Gasping excitedly like a little boy who had just seen a cart of candy floss, Draco immediately pressed his wand to the coin and closed his eyes.

"Draco?" Pansy asked, completely taken aback by his actions and expressions.

When Draco opened his eyes, he gave Pansy an uncharacteristically huge grin that utterly confounded her.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Astoria wished she had her hands free at least to massage her throbbing head. It wasn't as if she had been knocked out; maybe she had been thinking too much lately. After all, her kidnapper – whoever it had been – had made use of some sort of spell to drift her into unconsciousness. And to have smuggled her out of the room – there could only be invisibility involved. Finally, she had woken up tied up to a chair – with _real_ ropes nonetheless – and interrogated by voices that she couldn't match to faces. Primarily because she was stuck in this dark room with only a glimpse of light outlining the door.

She had given up struggling; her wand had been extricated from her robes, and the knots were too tight for her to wriggle out of it. Maybe it was the struggles that had made her head hurt. Or maybe it was the lack of light that was making her drowsy.

_Damn you, Draco Malfoy! Maybe you could work those smartass brains of yours – and that Granger's – to come save me now?_

The door opened.

"LET ME OUT OF HERE!" screamed Astoria, at the top of her lungs.

From the angle her chair was placed, she couldn't see who it was even with the light shining in. The door slammed almost immediately, and there was darkness again.

"Stop asking me questions, I'm sick and tired of not being able to answer _anyway_, so why the hell are you..."

"I know you can't answer any of it."

Astoria stopped short. This voice was nothing like the sickly-sweet or the gruff ones she had heard earlier on. This voice was familiar.

"You're just here as bait. Don't you get it?"

"Who are you?" demanded Astoria, squinting even though she knew it was hopeless.

She didn't have to squint for long. Light burst out in front of her; a wand had been lit.

The face of Blaise Zabini stared back at her.

Astoria screamed; she nearly fell back if not for Blaise reaching out to slam her chair back into the ground again, roughly.

"BLAISE?" she shrieked. "Did you kidnap me?"

"I thought you were smart enough not to question that," replied Blaise, blandly. Then he turned away, his wand swinging to illuminate the other end of the room. Only a table was there. He walked towards it and sat on it to face her. "Pretty simple. All it took was a Disillusionment Charm and a heavy Sleeping Draught. And Pansy, for telling me the room password and that Millicent Bulstrode walks in and out of the room at late hours. Perfect for me to transport you out without distracting others."

Astoria was horrified. "What are you doing this for!"

Blaise did not meet her gaze. Instead, he stared blankly at the wall in front of him. "Malfoy."

"Malfoy made you kidnap me?" Astoria's face grew hot with fury and disbelief.

"No, I kidnapped you to get Malfoy here."

The heat faded away, and a different kind of perplexity took over. "You..."

"I found out from your sister about the pendants," replied Blaise, still in that very bland tone.

"You're _blackmailing_ him!" Realisation dawned upon Astoria.

"You are pretty quick after all."

"You're doing this for _them_? They're luring Malfoy out so that he can receive his punishment, aren't they? And they got you to do this? Wait, are you..." Astoria's head was throbbing even harder from all these sudden revelations.

A faint smirk appeared on Blaise's face.

Astoria gasped. "_Another one_!"

The smirk was replaced by a scowl. "Yes, _another_ one. Will never be – the _only_ one."

"You're insane, Blaise!" Astoria couldn't believe her ears. "Your family was supposed to be neutral! Why are you jumping into death?"

"I'm not here to listen to you preach!" Blaise suddenly yelled back, his fiery gaze back onto her in full force. "I'm here to find out why he stole your pendants!" His eyes narrowed. _She knows that he deserves punishment._ "Surely there must have been something..."

"Why don't you ask Malfoy!" retorted Astoria. "How the bloody hell am I supposed to know?"

At least, she only knew that he was blackmailing her grandmother about her connection with the ex-Death Eater. That was about all she knew – and she didn't feel like it was appropriate to tell this to Blaise.

When Blaise did not reply her, and instead looked positively furious, Astoria couldn't help but sense that something was not quite right.

The door swung open again.

Blaise was startled out from his position on the table; Astoria jerked on her chair.

"Hello sweetie, are you... oh, Blaise! What are you doing here? Having a nice chat?" It was that irritatingly sweet voice – it _had_ to be a woman. The door slammed and the room was plunged into darkness before Astoria's eyes could adjust to the sudden burst of light earlier.

But Blaise's wand was still lit, and Astoria could see that he was frightened. _Yes, frightened!_ He tried to put on a brave front, but suddenly a wand was thrusted beneath his chin to push his head upward, and he lost the courage. Instead, he began to shake.

"So..." The voice seemed to coil around the room like a venomous snake. "Where is Draco?"

The way she said "Draco" was as if he were an adored pet of hers. Astoria cringed at how sickening she made his name sound.

A Death Eater all right... but she still had no idea who it was specifically.

Blaise was perspiring so profusely, and shaking quite badly; Astoria stared at him in amazement.

There was a long silence, save for Blaise's heavy breaths, and lame attempts at opening his mouth to speak, but failing to.

The wand retreated; suddenly, Blaise was blasted into the wall with a loud thud; Astoria screamed instinctively.

The light from Blaise's wand was extinguished; the wand must have flown out of his hand.

"You fool..." The voice had turned cold and menacing. "Has he escaped?"

"I... I don't know..." Blaise managed to squeeze out. "He's... he's been missing..."

"Oh you incompetent fool, you...!" Whoever it was, was really mad and jittery. "Missing! _Missing!_ Where could that rascal have gone to... old Dumblydork couldn't possibly be hiding him, could he, and Severus – oh, Severus has come back to us, he can't be keeping him... and now that the Dark Lord needs him, _I'm_ supposed to keep an eye on that ruddy boy, so _where can he be?_ Is it really that old man hiding him? TELL ME!"

"I really don't know! But I don't think so – Dumbledore's been looking very weak nowadays, he can't possibly be..."

"Weak? Is that so! I like the sound of that!" The voice burst out into girlish giggles. "How splendid, the Dark Lord promised me that would happen, and it did!" Suddenly, it changed to a thoughtful and cunning tone. "There's only one person now that could possibly know... I have to find Cissy... it's her son, she can't possibly just – oh argh! Now I have two useless children here, useless, useless!"

Whoever it was flung open the door wide, and the light from outside poured in to illuminate the whole room.

And its occupants.

"GREYBACK!"

The frenzied woman who was screaming...

Astoria had trouble breathing upon identifying her.

_No wonder... no wonder she talked about Draco as if he was her kin..._

Blaise was lying against the wall, weakly staring after the woman; his entire body was trembling.

Astoria's gaze shifted back to the woman, who was now looking directly at her and smirking.

"Hello, darling, do I look familiar?"

"Lestrange..." Astoria managed to spit out. "Bellatrix Lestrange!"

"Oh, very good..." Bellatrix clapped her hands and beamed. "We're getting started!"

"Dog of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!" Astoria's eyes flashed coldly. "And a female dog to boot. That just makes you a..."

Bellatrix's expression grew wild. She flew forward and slapped Astoria's cheek hard, causing the angry auburn-haired girl to scream,

"BITCH!"

"You need a little wash of your mouth, young lady." Bellatrix sneered, her thin fingers closing around Astoria's neck as the girl gasped for air. "How about..."

"Is she for me?" The gruff voice emerged. But this time – it was laced with – _hunger_.

Bellatrix let go of Astoria's throat, and Astoria coughed and hacked furiously.

"I've other important things to attend to than to kill a defenseless girl like you," said Bellatrix, smirking as she blew at her fingernails. Then she turned to the monstrous creature by the door. Astoria's eyes grew wide with horror as she realised that she had indeed been right – Fenrir Greyback, the most savage of werewolves, was there gloating with all the hunger in his eyes. This was not making her oxygen flow any better.

Bellatrix stalked towards the middle of the room, then she cast her gaze onto a shaking Blaise, who was wincing from the pain in his body.

"And you – can forget about staying as part of us. You know nothing anyway – the Dark Lord just wanted you to get Draco for us. But since you can't even perform such a single task, that's it. No wait, not just it. You'll pay for your mistake, Blaise. Punishment will come," her voice sneering, "for fools like you."

"No..." Blaise whispered. It was almost – _a whimper_.

Bellatrix ignored him and turned towards Greyback.

"Finish her off."

Greyback gave a terribly chilling snarl, and Bellatrix twittered happily as she exited the room.

"No... no... don't you DARE come near me, you beast... you..."

"It's been a while..." Greyback bared his teeth as he advanced, stepping away from the light. All she could see were his dirty-yellow eyes gleaming as they narrowed. "Since I've had the chance to tear someone apart bit by bit..." Even in the dim light, she could make out the fangs coming closer to her.

_This is it... the end!_

Astoria shrieked with all her might as he neared her. A sudden burst of courage seized her and she spat right into his face. But it only served to make things worse.

Greyback let loose a guttural snarl, and reached out to shove her chair to the ground. Her head hit the ground, her back against the wood of the chair, and every part of her was aching terribly.

But worst of all, was the fear that was pumping through her nerves as the monstrous figure of Greyback loomed over her. Her hands were still tied firmly around the back of the chair such that she couldn't even stop him. His strong hands – or were they paws – slammed on either side of her, his face drawing closer...

_The end..._

"TAKE THAT!"

Suddenly, the overwhelming presence was lifted off her, accompanied with a deafening howl – and ended with a loud reverberation.

She realised Greyback had been blasted against the wall.

Blaise Zabini was standing in the middle of the room, half-illuminated by the light streaming in from the doorway, dishevelled and panting. His wand was raised, pointing towards the wall where Greyback was. The slumped figure of the werewolf was barely visible. Astoria stared in a mix of astonishment, horror and relief all at once. Zabini looked equally surprised that he managed to knock Greyback out.

"You..."

Blaise just stared at his wand, and then at Greyback. A very hard look came over his face.

"Blaise..."

"Shut up!" He turned towards her, wildly.

"Look, there's no turning back..." Astoria stared at Greyback's still figure. "They're not going to take you back..."

"I KNOW!"

"Well, then stop standing there!" Astoria hissed.

For a fraction of a second, Blaise hesitated. Then he made an exasperated noise, and rushed forward to untie the knots. It proved difficult, for they were dead ones; in the end, he just wielded his wand.

"Come on!" He yanked her off the chair. Her legs were wobbly after not walking for days, and she was weak from hunger, thirst and pain. But Blaise supported her as they hobbled out, since he was in pain as well.

"My wand..." whispered Astoria, as Blaise wielded his wand over them to cast a Disillusionment Charm.

"How about your life!" Blaise shot back angrily, and then he hustled her along.

There was no sign of Bellatrix Lestrange. She must have left in a hurry to find Narcissa Malfoy.

"Blaise..."

"Shut up and just move!" He glared at her. "And don't thank me!"

Astoria closed her eyes, and just let him drag her off to safety.


	32. Battle of Hogwarts

**Disclaimer: **All characters except for Corrinne W., Maldash W. and - (I think that's it, dang) belong to Ms Rowling, although I hold claim to any unique characterisation - and plot.

**A/N:** This was originally a REALLY long chapter. But then it grew too confusing, so I snipped the bottom off to leave it to the next chapter. Pity! I really liked the original ending of this chapter. It'll have to become the ending of the next I suppose! There's PLENTY of action in this one (as the title suggests), although there's not much of Dramione here - but I promise that there'll be some cool scenes for the next chappy. Thanks so much for your reviews, really appreciated it!

And of course, enjoy (:

* * *

"This is mindblowingly ridiculous!" Ron hissed. "How many disappearing acts does she want to pull on us?"

They were all staring at the portrait hole in dismay and frustration. Harry had stopped them from chasing Hermione once she was out in the corridor, because none of them had the Cloak to hide them from Filch, who was most likely to be patrolling now. The last thing Harry needed was another person from the group missing.

"She said something about Rookwood trying to stop Malfoy from getting to something..." Ginny raised her eyebrows.

"Rookwood had prevented them from destroying Helga Hufflepuff's Cup the last time, right?" Corrinne asked. She and Neville had heard of Hermione's story from the others. "He clearly wants to destroy the Horcruxes himself."

"A Horcrux in Hogwarts?" Ginny's eyes widened.

"I think, more pertinently..." Neville hesitated. "Zabini and Slughorn might be up to no good. They're our only clue now."

"Okay you know what, I'm really sick and tired of waiting for Hermione to deliver clues to us, when she's acting so sneaky all the time." Ron glared at Harry. "And you should stop feeling sorry about making her befriend Malfoy, because I think she's starting to befriend him more than us, and I'm not taking that lying down! Mate, will you be a man and stop relying on a woman to help you? And maybe go find another man? Like Dumbledore?"

"Right, that's so like a man." Ginny rolled her eyes, but Harry sighed.

"Yeah Ron, I think you're right. Waiting for Hermione isn't going to help us one bit. We don't know if she's going to pull another cave adventure again and make us worry for days. But Ron, Dumbledore isn't looking at his best..."

"Oh, bollocks!" Ron threw up his hands. "I'm sure that brain of his is well-oiled enough to keep going even if he's hacking his lungs out."

"What about Filch..."

"Harry James Potter." Ron pointed at Harry dramatically and declared, "You are – a wimp."

That galvanised Harry enough. "Okay shut up, I'm going."

"I never knew you to take so much initiative to lead the way Ron," said Ginny, sarcastically. "How courageous of you."

"Hey, which leader goes to commit suicide first?"

"Very comforting, that was."

-.-.-.-.-.-

"But Professor, I really need to see him!"

Professor McGonagall, who was clearly annoyed at having her bedtime delayed, gave Harry a sharp glare. "If you really must know, Mr Potter, the Headmaster is visiting his brother at the Hog's Head. He doesn't really go down very often, and has emphasised that it is an important visit. Please, if you do not have anything very important..."

"I suppose it warrants as something important if I just tried to set Peeves on Filch in order to get here, doesn't it?" Harry shot back, his panting as evidence from the narrow escape he had earlier on.

Professor McGonagall stared at him. "Whatever could be so serious, Mr Potter? Another of your dreams?"

"Professor, are you aware that Draco Malfoy is missing?"

There was a sharp silence. Professor McGonagall surveyed Harry with a grim expression. Then she nodded.

"You can't possibly not do anything!"

"It's heartening to know that you are beginning to show some concern for your other House _friends_, Mr Potter, but I should think now is not the time to do so." She made her way to the door, turning around to emphasise that she wanted him to leave the room.

"He's been kidnapped, just like Astoria Greengrass!"

That caught her attention. Professor McGonagall stared at Harry. "Mr Potter, do you know what you are saying?"

"Corrinne and Neville heard someone abduct Malfoy in the corridor and dragged him down to the Slytherin common-room." Harry had to try to steady himself. "And we're suspecting it's another Death-Eater in the walls of Hogwarts."

"Mr Potter, that is ridiculous..."

"No, it's not. Right now, we can possibly try to stop whoever it is. And we can start from Professor Slughorn, who was having a rendezvous with Blaise Zabini just now."

"A _what_?"

Harry pulled out the Marauder's Map and set it in front of Professor McGonagall, who pursed up her lips on seeing this famed (infamous, rather) object of mischief. _No wonder Potter ALWAYS gets into trouble. His father had a hand in this, I see..._

Then he pointed at the office of Slughorn. "Usually, he turns in early, but he's still in his office. Earlier on, I saw Blaise Zabini walk into his office, just barely half an hour ago. I have the witness of Ron, Ginny, Corrinne, Neville..." He paused. "And Hermione."

"It may be just some private meeting between the Head of House and..."

"Zabini _disappeared_! He just disappeared from the Map! And that," he jabbed at the Map, "is Slughorn's fireplace! He left the school through the Floo network!"

Professor McGonagall shot Harry an incredulous look.

"Professor, we suspect Zabini is involved in the kidnapping of Astoria Greengrass."

McGonagall gave a loud gasp. "That is a serious accusation, Potter!"

"Daphne Greengrass admitted to Hermione that she had told Zabini about some – some incident involving her sister and Draco Malfoy, and the kidnapping is most likely an attempt to lure Malfoy out. As for Malfoy's disappearance, we're not too sure though..."

"I don't understand." Professor McGonagall stared at him blankly.

"It's a really long story!" Harry's tone was a mix of exasperation and desperation. "Can you trust our theory for once and do check on Professor Slughorn? We're suspecting that he is helping the Death-Eaters!"

The urgency of his tone frightened Professor McGonagall, and she privately wished that she didn't have to trust him. But this was Harry Potter. The last time he got everyone out of bed, Arthur Weasley had been bitten by Nagini. She couldn't _not_ trust him. Furthermore, alarm bells were starting to ring in her head – Professor Dumbledore had once warned her that despite Slughorn's merry attitude upon returning to Hogwarts, he was not to be reckoned with, given that Death-Eaters had approached him time and again.

Making a disgruntled noise, she took her coat and wrapped it around her as she followed Harry towards Professor Slughorn's room.

"Perhaps he's just questioning Mr Zabini on Mr Malfoy's disappearance. You think too much sometimes, Potter, it's highly aggravating..."

They were just about to turn the corner towards the other staff members' offices when there were some shuffling noises. Harry stopped short, and Professor McGonagall stopped herself before she bumped into him.

"Pot –"

Harry turned to his Head of House and placed a finger on his mouth, before leaning a little out. Professor McGonagall pulled him back, and he leant against the wall, straining to listen to the voices that were now streaming through the corridor.

"To think I'm back to this very place..." a thin female voice whispered, contempt evident in her tone.

"Where's the office?" came a very low voice. Male.

"That way... no, I think it's this way... no, wait, I think..."

"A crying shame, Yaxley, that you once studied here. Such a disgrace to Slytherin! It's THIS way!" hissed the feminine voice.

Harry leant out further, and then he saw a few black-robed figures hurry off into the darkness ahead, and disappear behind the bend.

_Yaxley..._ Where had he heard this name before?

"They're really here...", came a ragged whisper from behind him, and he jumped.

"Professor?"

He swallowed hard as he leaned back to see Professor McGonagall's ghostly white and horrified face in the dim corridor lights. His eyes widened.

"Harry," Professor McGonagall's lip was quivering. She never called him by his first name unless it was a grave situation, and when she was worried for him. "Go find your friends. Those who were in the... Dumbledore's Army with you last year. I must go alert the rest of the staff. You are right; the Death-Eaters have infiltrated the walls of Hogwarts..."

Her voice trailed off, with a despair so evident that Harry felt his blood run cold.

_The Death-Eaters have infiltrated the walls of Hogwarts..._

-.-.-.-.-.-

Hermione stepped out of the Room of Requirement, her eyes misty. In her clenched right fist, was the ring of Pansy Parkinson. But it told her nothing.

In the other fist, lay the charmed coin.

It told her nothing either.

_"You asked me why I kissed you..."_

She closed her eyes, savouring the moment when his arms were around her, and his face buried in the curls that pooled around her neck.

_"The first time I did, it was because I thought I had lost you there. I thought I was going to die, and Rookwood would kill you thereafter. And it would be my fault. I knew all along that there was a huge possibility that you were doing this for Potter. But you were insane; you went so far ahead with me, that isn't Gryffindor courage anymore, that's stupidity."_

No, certainly not Gryffindor courage.

And yes, stupidity.

_"The second time I did..."_

She remembered how hoarse his voice had become, a fragile sound.

_"Was to say sorry. For wanting to leave you behind. That wasn't Malfoy pride, that was stupidity too."_

Then her own words came back to her.

_"I was really beginning to think... I was – really nobody to you."_

Had Draco answered? She could barely remember what happened after she said that. Those words kept echoing in her mind.

Where was he? What did Pansy do to him? Was she a Death-Eater as well, and had she brought Draco to face justice with Voldemort – if that could even be considered justice?

A shudder ran through her. _Draco Malfoy, are you going to leave me behind again?_

_Why do you care so much?_ A voice in her head demanded. _Why do you trust him so much? He wanted to leave you behind in the cave, maybe he and Pansy put up an act to make you fall into a trap!_

Her breath came out in short, stunted gasps. _Do you really believe that?_

Another shudder came. But...

Hermione stared at her left fist. That wasn't a shudder.

That was a _vibration_.

She held up her fist and opened up her fingers slowly.

The coin jumped!

Hermione gasped as she grabbed at it, then flipped it over, only to see the miniscule words floating on the surface:

_SLYTHERIN DUNGEON PORTKEY HELP DRACO._

She stood stock-still at the moment, completely overwhelmed by a flood of emotions that was overtaking her senses.

He was alive!

_Draco, I..._

But the word "help" suddenly jolted her back to reality.

_"I don't need your help..." "...filthy Mudblood..."_

The adrenaline that kicked in took control of her limbs and she found herself running towards the direction of the Slytherin dungeons. She could hardly care that she was not supposed to be out at this time of the night; she would try to see Argus Filch stop her! There was little time left – there couldn't be any other people wanting Draco's life as much as the Death Eaters; on one hand, he held the Horcrux secrets that Rookwood dearly desired, on the other hand, he had utterly betrayed Lord Voldemort, and none of the loyal minions would have stood for it. Nothing – nothing could be more important than that!

Just as she was running along the corridor, another vibration ran through her. For a moment, Hermione thought it was another message from Draco – but no, this vibration came from within her robes. Confused, she stopped short and pulled out what was another coin from her robe pocket.

The DA coin.

The glowing mark on it was unmistakeable.

Harry needed the DA. Something was wrong.

She flipped it over.

_DEATH EATERS IN HOGWARTS._

Her eyes grew round with utter horror.

Too late! All too late! They had penetrated the walls of Hogwarts!

_Find Harry and Ron! You've got to fight them!_

But another voice was calling out in her head. _What about Draco? He needs your help!_

_He's a DEATH EATER!_

Don't be stupid, you know he's not one at heart!

Hermione clutched at her head. This was the wrong time to be getting a splitting headache! She was Hermione Granger, a cool, calm and collected Gryffindor! She could think this out rationally, yes, weigh the pros and the cons, decide which was the most rational solution...

No, when it came to Draco Malfoy, nothing could possibly be rational.

"Hermione?"

A soft voice startled her. Hermione stared at the far end of the corridor, and immediately recognised the long blonde tresses. "Luna! Did you get Harry's message!"

Luna placed a finger to her lips, looked left and right in a very calm manner, then sprinted silently towards Hermione. When she stopped in front of Hermione, she stared at her in an oddly piercing manner. "What's wrong? Why aren't you going?"

Hermione winced. "Luna, I..."

Luna merely looked at her patiently.

Giving up, Hermione let out a frustrated sigh. "Luna, tell me what to do! Dra – I mean, Malfoy's in danger right now, and he sent me a message through my charmed coin that he's somewhere that can be accessed by this Portkey in the Slytherin dungeons, and then Harry messages me to say that Death Eaters are here! What am I supposed to do?"

"Isn't Malfoy a Death Eater too?"

"Oh, Luna, you can't possibly think that just because he was so furious at the cave!" Hermione cried desperately, feeling as though nobody could possibly understand how she was feeling now. In fact, she felt like whichever route she chose, she'd be condemned to Hell anyway, and that wasn't a pleasant feeling at all.

And not to mention, time was ticking.

"Oh he seemed fairly nice somehow, even though he was blowing his top. But he's still a Death Eater," said Luna, cocking her head to one side.

"Luna, please just..."

"You've decided, Hermione," said Luna, in a very wispy voice that seemed to have an oddly calming effect. "You're just worried about making Harry angry. It's okay."

"But..."

"Harry has Ron, Ginny, Neville, and Corrinne. Who does Malfoy have?"

Hermione felt something stab at her.

"I'll come with you, if you don't mind." Luna gave her a little smile, her blue eyes still sharply gazing at Hermione, but the smile was pleasant enough. "If we save Draco Malfoy, then he can join us on our side against the Death Eaters. If you go fight now without saving him, I don't think you'd feel at ease one bit."

Hermione didn't know what to say. Suddenly, she felt like embracing Luna Lovegood.

"Let us go, before the Murriwuts hear us and alert the Death Eaters. They've got very good ears even though they're blind." And Luna pulled her along.

"The – _what_?"

-.-.-.-.-.-

"Harry!" A hoarse whisper came from behind. Harry spun around and saw Ron, Ginny, Neville and Corrinne all lined up against the wall.

"Death Eaters?" Ron choked.

Harry nodded grimly. "There're about six of them, and they all came in via Slughorn's fireplace I should think. McGonagall has gone to wake up the rest of the staff. I think we'd better split up – they're heading to someone's office, I'm not sure who..."

"No guesses, they're going straight for Dumbledore!" Corrinne hissed, her eyes a flaming deep red.

"He's not in!" Harry stared at her.

"Then they'll go for _everyone_!" Corrinne shot back, icily. Neville placed a trembling hand on her arm, and she looked away angrily.

"Where's Hermione and Luna?" demanded Harry.

"I can't believe Hermione just ran away like that and doesn't respond immediately to the coin she charmed," Ron growled.

"Hey, here's not the time to talk about this, we've got to go!" Ginny glared at her brother.

The group of them scurried down the corridor towards Dumbledore's office, only to stop short before entering the main corridor when Harry saw that there were figures there. He clamped his mouth as he plastered himself against the wall, straining to hear the muffled voices, and the rest followed suit.

"...we going to just stand here and wait for him to issue us an invitation?"

"Don't be stupid! Once we have the traitor boy here in front of his office, he _has_ to meet us!"

"You think Lestrange really knows what she's doing?"

"It's her sister's son, for Merlin's sake! If Narcissa Malfoy says that there's nowhere else the boy could be but school, then he must be hiding somewhere! Excellent defenses, and that stupid rot of a Headmaster... where else could he possibly go!"

"Pity pity, Lestrange went to all that trouble for nothing, kidnapping the girl... getting that silly boy called what – Zabby? Zobbery? – to run errands for her..."

"Keep your voice down, will you! There's a cranky old caretaker around!"

"Oh right, he's still here? Damn..."

Ginny tugged at Harry's sleeve, and they slunk back into the shadows.

"They want to get Malfoy to lure Dumbledore out!" whispered Ron, looking scandalised.

"And he's going to get thrown into a cauldron and boiled into soup for Voldemort!" Corrinne added, thinly.

Harry issued her a fierce glare, the cogwheels in his brain spinning at full speed. Just the few of them versus the Death Eaters, for the rest of the DA no longer checked their coins regularly, and wouldn't be likely to be alerted to Harry's message. As for the staff – goodness knows who would be ready to fight them. There was only one person who could handle this – Hogwarts needed him, and needed him _now_.

Turning to Ginny, he grabbed her hand and whispered,

"I'm going to ask McGonagall to let me go find Dumbledore, he's at his brother's inn. There's no way we're going to work this out without him around. You – all – try to distract those ruddy Death Eaters before Dumbledore comes, don't split up anymore, stay together! This Death Eaters may be more powerful than we think. Ron, take care of them alright, mate?"

"Alright, I've got it, now go before you get all soppy!" Ron made a face at him.

Harry kissed Ginny's forehead, gave Ron a heavy pat on the back, followed by Neville, and then looked at Corrinne.

"Watch that temper," he muttered.

Corrinne made a rather rude noise.

With that, Harry sped off into the darkness.

They stood there for a moment, not knowing what to do.

"Okay, now what?" Ron demanded, rounding onto them, completely forgetting to lower his voice. "Go jump on those Death Eaters? Throw some spells on them?" He thought for a while. "Yeah that sounds like what Harry might do, maybe throw some..."

He trailed off when he saw the wide eyes staring at him. "What? I mean..."

No, not staring _at_ him.

Staring _behind_ him.

Ron's eyes widened too.

"Throw some spells at us, did you say?"

Ron spun around, only to met with the tip of a wand. He gulped as he stared into the face of an unfamiliar man, who apart from a rather potly figure, had a crooked nose and rather large frog-like eyes.

"What are you children doing out here at night!" hissed the man.

Corrinne smirked. "Catching Death Eaters."

The man's eyes narrowed, and his mouth curved into a deep scowl.

"Selwyn, let's not pretend, I'm suddenly itching to do some practice." Another voice came, and a taller and leaner man with a sallow face appeared, his eyes gleaming like a cat's. "Maybe some..."

The man raised his wand.

But he did not see Ginny's wand flash in the darkness.

"_STUPEFY!_" The light that burst out from Ginny's wand blasted the tall man into the wall behind. Taking advantage of Selwyn being momentarily taken aback by that, Corrinne immediately threw a spell at him. "_IMPEDIMENTA!_"

Selwyn screeched as he was sent flying into the tall man. A jet of red light shot straight at Ron, but Ginny knocked him down onto the floor.

"OWW!"

"GET UP, RON!"

Ron scrambled up and pushed Ginny to the side, just as another red light shot at them. Corrinne threw another spell over, and hurried them up. "Quick, RUN!"

They ran down the corridor, dodging as much as they could with spells zipping over their heads

"Where's Harry and Hermione when you need them?" gasped Ron, as a spell narrowly missed his arm.

"Who – was – the – one – who – said to – be like – a – MAN!" Ginny hacked out as she nearly stumbled. She turned around and cast her famous Bat Bogey Hex, eliciting some yells from the two men, before she continued running.

They could barely manage throwing over a couple of spells themselves, when they had reached a staircase. Quickly, Ron ran downwards, but Corrinne had run upwards.

"Corrinne Whitemayer!" yelled Ron, and stopped running as he realised that Neville and Corrinne were split from Ginny and him. "Come back DOWN!"

But before Corrinne could reply, she found herself staring at two unfamiliar people on the stairs above her. The hooded figures pulled back their black hoods, and revealed similar faces with similar sneering expressions. Slowly, Corrinne backed away, and Neville tried to make her back down behind him. On the staircase landing, Selwyn and the tall Death Eater had advanced towards them, their face with remnant scars from Ginny's vicious hexes.

"Ooh, Alecto, what a find! Am I right to say that those two redheads are whom I think they are?" One of the duo raised his eyebrows in a comically exaggerated manner.

"You mean..." Selwyn gaped, pointing downwards at Ginny and Ron. "Those are the Weasleys?"

"You fool, Selwyn!" The sharp, sinister voice of the other half of the duo spat. "And you, Yaxley! Fancy being thrown spells by a couple of silly students!"

"Shut up, Amycus!" growled Yaxley.

"Are you telling ME to shut – "

Ginny immediately made to run, but then Selwyn's wand was up and pointing at her. "Don't you move anymore, young lady, or you'd be blown to bits!"

Ron quickly stood in front of his sister, glaring at Selwyn, who merely smirked. From above, the one called Alecto cackled.

"Suddenly so valiant, Weasley? Not in Potter's shadow anymore?"

Ron shot the dark figure a look of pure hatred. "If you think that'll make me waver, you're despicable!"

"Then where's the girl? Oh, the one that you could have had by your side if not for Drakey. Poor thing, nobody could possibly resist Draco's appeal, could they? Fallen into the hands of the enemy..."

Ron turned white. Clearly, the Death Eaters knew that Hermione was being implicated in this whole thing. It had to be Zabini's doing.

"Where's Hermione?" He could hardly suppress the rage in him.

"Oh, getting concerned, aren't we? Right now, she's..."

Suddenly, there was a flash of light, and Selwyn instinctively turned – only to see Yaxley fall sideways onto the ground, his eyes staring fixatedly ahead. There was a collective gasp from the Death Eaters above. Selwyn leapt over Yaxley's lifeless body to throw a spell – and dodged as another spell came flying through.

"Bunch of useless monkeys, you all, to come and wreak havoc here!" Alastor Moody's gruff but furious voice was unmistakeable.

"Quick, RUN!" Ginny tugged at Ron's sleeve, and immediately, they bounded down the stairs. Corrinne and Neville took advantage of Selwyn's distraction and followed suit, prompting the two Death-Eaters above to shriek and give chase. "_STUPEFY!_"

"Run, children!" Moody bellowed, as he raised his staff to strike at Selwyn one more time.

"We've got to save HERMIONE!" Ron yelled, as he ran.

"There's MALFOY!" Ginny shrieked.

"You're counting on HIM? Did you hear what that woman said?"

"Fun, fun, fun!" shrieked the Death-Eater called Alecto, as she chased after them. "Amycus, we should have told Dolohov to leave that werewolf alone!"

-.-.-.-.-.-

Antonin Dolohov was standing at the top of the Astronomy Tower, his wand pointed at another – belonging to Remus Lupin. The two of them were glaring daggers at each other, and there was a faint smirk on Dolohov's face.

"Remus Lupin." He drawled. "It's surprising that you're still able to assume a humanoid form, after what Greyback did to you. Pathetic, dependent on people your whole life just to brew a potion for you. Dependent on a _Death Eater_ to boot. How pathetic can you get?"

Lupin's eyes narrowed. Everything had happened so quickly – Minerva had summoned the Order via fireplace, and he found himself with Tonks in Minerva's office within seconds. Then they had split up, only to find himself battling Antonin Dolohov all the way to the top of the Tower. Now in the midst of the chilly wind and the night sky, there were only the two of them. Dolohov was one of the more powerful Death Eaters, Lupin knew, and he had been in seclusion all this while. Merlin knew how many tricks he had up his sleeve that nobody had ever encountered before.

"Got yourself a loved one, haven't you, Remus?"

"Don't talk to me like you're a friend." Lupin gritted his teeth. "Get your fellow – comrades and get out of here!"

"Not when we haven't managed to find what we've come for." Dolohov smiled coldly. "Tell us where Draco Malfoy and Albus Dumbledore are."

Lupin gave a hollow laugh. "You storm Hogwarts to find Draco Malfoy and Albus Dumbledore? Are you out of your mind? Has the fact that Hogwarts been impenetrable all this while completely eluded you? Do you think you can get out of here alive?"

Something in Dolohov's eyes flickered, but he merely snickered. "Don't try to play games with me, werewolf." He was clearly tired of playing the courtesy game. "I know that Albus Dumbledore is no longer the great wizard he was." And the curved smile on his face became more confident. "I saw him fall to the ground in that cave, crying like a baby... being shoved cupfuls of poisonous water by that dratted Potter boy, but oh, how mesmerising – that powerful wizard reduced to a vulnerable, helpless infant, babbling like an idiot. So pathetic, really."

Lupin stared in bewilderment.

"Oh, I was there, Remus." Dolohov chuckled. "I saw it all happen. I was there all the while. Always there, watching when Albus Dumbledore came into the cave, only to be thwarted by the presence of Maldash Wentervale – remember him?"

"You... you knew about the Horcrux?" Lupin was disbelieving. "But – but the Keeper was..."

"So you know, don't you?" Dolohov smirked. "It's no longer a secret, since it was destroyed. But after Wentervale was exiled, I took over as Secret-Keeper. Watched as time and again, Wentervale tried to get to the Horcrux and fail miserably. I watched as he leapt across the chasm into the pit of the dragon, but always seem to be resurrected. I was puzzled... I never knew how he did it. Then just when I wanted to investigate, Dumbledore came once again – but this time, with two meddlesome children!"

"And lo and behold – who should one of them be but Draco Malfoy!"

"I hid in the darkness all the while; nobody saw me, not even a flicker of a shadow. But I heard them. I thought that Malfoy was on espionage mission, so I left it to him..."

"But then Dumbledore brought _Potter_ along later – I couldn't let Potter get near the Horcrux, not at all... "

"Still," Dolohov let out another low laugh, "I just let them get near it. I even let them destroy it. And I wasn't punished for it. Do you know why?"

Lupin didn't have to hear anymore. It was clear – Dolohov meant Dumbledore to drink the poisoned water and to be weakened. Voldemort would have been more than willing to sacrifice a part of his soul to cripple the other greatest living wizard. The chill from the surrounding winds seem to pierce through his skin even more, and he could feel an infernal rage boil up within him – an animalistic instinct that was raging through his veins...

Suddenly, he found himself hurled to the corner of the tower wall, knocking against the hard concrete – he saw stars. Dolohov had taken advantage of his distraction and once again, sent him flying to the other corner. Lupin pulled out his wand, but found it flying out of his hand – and into Dolohov's.

Lupin stared in horror. Dolohov's skills and reflexes were definitely honed to excellence. _No wonder he became the next Secret-Keeper..._

"Come get your wand, werewolf." Dolohov sneered. "One more step, and you're _no more_!"

* * *

**A/N: **The original DA coin did not have words on it, so just another liberty I took!


	33. Surprise, Surprise!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. (Short and sweet :D)

**A/N:** A big round of thanks to reviewers, readers and all - I promise at the end of this story I will acknowledge each of you personally for showing interest in my story, giving me encouragements just by adding me on alerts, favourites, and most of all, taking time to drop a note. Anyway, this chapter tends to jump around quite a bit, but not to fret, it will all come back together in one single scene in the later chapters when everybody comes together. Oh - what am I saying? Did I just say something?

Forget it, let's just get on with the story! (:

* * *

Remus Lupin let out a guttural snarl and launched himself at Dolohov from the side, taking the Death Eater offguard since he had expected a frontal attack. However, his victory was short-lived. Dolohov rained a heavy blow with his elbow on Lupin's skull, and Lupin rocked back in agony, losing his grip on Dolohov. With another swing, Dolohov's wand shot out a jet of red light that knocked Lupin backwards into the railing, nearly causing him to lose his balance.

"Take that!" Dolohov sneered and hurled another curse at Lupin, who managed to duck and dodge it despite the pain in his head that was making his vision blur. "You mutant beast..."

"NO, YOU TAKE THAT!" Suddenly the Tower door had swung open, and a flying spell hurtled towards Dolohov, slamming him backwards into the wall. Lupin's wand flew out of his grip, and before Lupin could make out what was happening, Kingsley Shacklebolt was helping him up and giving him his wand back. Lupin shook his head to rid his vision of the stars, and saw a jet black-haired Tonks throw spell after spell viciously at Dolohov, who was blocking everything off with an advanced Shield Charm, his eyes brimming with rage.

Dolohov managed to knock Tonks' advances off with his massive Shield; Shacklebolt found himself blasted towards the wall, and Lupin could hardly wield his arm without feeling an agonisingly sharp pain shoot up his bone. Seeing that, Dolohov's eyes glinted. Remus Lupin never looked so vulnerable...

He raised his wand to further incapacitate Lupin, but Tonks was faster –

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!_" she shrieked, taking advantage of the Shield that had momentarily disappeared in Dolohov's bid to curse Lupin.

Dolohov fell to the ground, like a sack of potatoes.

There was a moment of silence.

Then Tonks ran forward and threw herself into Lupin's outstretched arms. "Remus!" She choked, her hair shimmering into soft brown.

Lupin buried his head in her shoulder, his eyes firmly shut.

Kingsley cleared his throat.

"Let's go!" Lupin grabbed Tonks' hand. He groaned a little as he stood up, so Tonks had to mutter a healing spell first. Thereafter, the trio sped down the staircase, only to be confronted with a scene of two black-robed figures shooting spells downwards – towards the familiar faces of Ron, Ginny, Corrinne and Neville.

Tonks' wand flashed through the air once again. One of the Death Eaters was blasted backwards with a scream. The other one was distracted, and found himself thrown to the side by a very powerful spell emitting from Corrinne's wand.

"Nymphadora Tonks, you – " the voice screamed from above.

"Alecto Carrow, you evil twit, it's TONKS!" yelled back Tonks, fiercely revitalised.

"Run, kids!" Lupin shouted, breaking away from Tonks and ran after them. "Where's Harry?"

"He's gone to find Dumbledore!" yelled back Ron.

"Where the hell is he? The whole school's going to be up any minute!"

-.-.-.-.-.-

There was a sudden whirlwind of ash and soot in the relatively immaculate office of Professor Horace Slughorn.

Or at least, immaculate since he had just cleaned it with a flick of his wand about an hour or so ago.

"Well then!" Slughorn wasn't the least bit pleased. "It's about time you returned, young man! The rest..."

He stopped mid-sentence, jaw dropping.

Before him, was a very stony-faced Blaise Zabini – as well as a defiant-looking Astoria Greengrass.

"Sh-she..." Slughorn leapt out of his seat, stuttering. "Y-you...!"

"Stuff it, Sluggy," Blaise said, rudely. "It's over."

"O-over? You ruddy boy, you said that you were going to torture her, find out where Draco Malfoy is! How could you... what did Bellatrix say, what _did_ she say?"

"I'm a Death Eater no more," replied Blaise, icily, ignoring the pain that was burning on his arm. "First of all, my induction ceremony was pathetic, I could barely see the Dark Lord! And after all that, they took me for an idiot! And so did you! I was blind to have trusted you liars!"

Slughorn could not find any more words. Suddenly, a wave of fury overtook him, and he grabbed his wand from the table, ready to wield his wand at the two of them –

Astoria was faster; she snatched the wand in Blaise's hand and yelled, "_Petrificus Totalus!_"

When the professor had landed smack down on the floor, as rigid as a statue, Blaise found himself equally unable to move, his jaw hanging open.

"Well, _get going_!" Astoria dragged him along.

The two of them ran across the corridor, hearing some mild sounds of what seemed to be like spells ricocheting around. Astoria looked at Blaise in bewilderment.

"They're here," whispered Blaise. "They've finally come."

"They? Who are you..."

"Death Eaters..." Blaise stopped running, pulling Astoria to a stop too. "They're after Malfoy since I couldn't find him..."

"Why the hell did you snitch on Draco?" demanded Astoria, angrily. "Aren't you guys best friends?"

Blaise's eyes glinted coldly. "Best friends? Haven't you seen what he's become? He hasn't said anything to us. He's been out doing errands for those people! He's been entrusted big things!"

"And just because you weren't chosen, you were feeling sour? And when you found out that Draco was acting suspicious because he was hanging out with Granger, you framed him as a traitor?"

Blaise glared at her. "What do you know?"

"You're the one who doesn't know anything!" Astoria returned the furious glare. "You tried to blackmail him with kidnapping me, because you know he'd figure out someone knows about the pendants. But Bellatrix Lestrange! Why'd she call Draco a traitor? Isn't it because of you?"

"It's not as if they didn't already want to catch him. According to the Dark Lord, D-Draco was found out to be traitorous..."

Blaise's voice was cracking.

"Okay, forget it," muttered Astoria. "Let's get going!"

Blaise didn't move for a moment.

"Don't be stupid, do you want to go back to them?" Astoria glared at him. "After what they said?"

"But..."

"Blaise Zabini, you're so stupid! You just said you were as good as their puppet!"

"_Greengrass?_"

Astoria spun around, and so did Blaise.

"_Potter?_"

Harry caught up with them, gasping for breath, his spectacles almost falling off the bridge of his nose, and his fringe matted against his wet forehead. "Oh my – you're back! You're alive! And – " His look morphed into that of disgust. "_Zabini!_"

"Morning, Potter," muttered Blaise, in a disgruntled tone.

"You _kidnapped_ her!" Harry exclaimed, in bewilderment.

"Well, he saved me too, as ironic as that sounds," said Astoria, leaving Blaise no room for sarcastic comments. "Potter, what's going on? The Death Eaters are here?"

Harry raised his eyebrows, but decided it was not time to interrogate. "Yes, and they're out to find Malfoy and Dumbledore. We've got to stop them. I just got Dumbledore back into the castle – he's going to confront them now. We've got to get to the rest – my friends are all battling them!"

"Wait, Potter..."

"WHAT?" Harry demanded, furious at being delayed.

Astoria looked around for any sign of people, then gazed intently at him. "I think one of the Death Eaters you should be really worried about is Bellatrix Lestrange."

Harry was taken aback by the sudden mention of Sirius' killer. It only served to fuel his rage. "Bellatrix Lestrange?" He repeated in a very frigid manner.

"She sent Blaise to kidnap me," Astoria threw a loathing look at Blaise, who returned it, "and she's out for collateral damage. She will do anything to please You-Know-Who, even if it means sacrificing her own nephew. Maybe even her sister. She's rising in the ranks, Potter."

Immediately, Harry realised that this was a vital piece of information.

If that was the case, then one of the two remaining Secret-Keepers had to be her.

He swallowed hard. _Time to meet again_.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Hermione made her way down the winding staircase as quietly as she could manage, while Luna seemed to be able to simply float down without making any sound. Just beyond the end of the staircase was a long stretch of dim corridor. There were some muttering of voices, and then the familiar creaking of a portrait swinging to the side and thereafter, cutting the voices off.

Swiftly, she slipped off the staircase and ducked into the shadows, Luna following suit.

There were many walkways on the right; the Slytherin common-room entrance appeared to be right at the end. Hermione and Luna carefully sidled up against the wall as they moved along, like a crab, and Hermione was ironically thankful that the Slytherins were always so dark and cunning that the dungeon's atmosphere currently mirrored their characters, shrouding over her and Luna.

"_Whooo... isss... thereeeee..._" The sudden hiss startled Hermione, and she jumped. But Luna placed a hand on her arm to calm her down.

"The portrait," Luna whispered.

Hermione steadied her nerves and continued treading the darkness. There was a small walkway to the right, and she turned sharply inwards.

"_Lumos_," she muttered, and the corner was lit.

Empty.

"No go..." And she followed as Luna flitted across to the next walkway.

By the time she managed to slide by the next corner, Luna had already illuminated the place with her wand. And there in the centre of the floor, was an old, crusty, boot.

"That's it?" Hermione stared at the crumbling item.

Luna nodded. "I would suppose. Usually when people steal my shoes, they'd take both and put them somewhere together. Haven't really come across anyone who placed them apart," she said, pointing at her bare feet. Hermione was privately enlightened to the secret to Luna's stealth. "So I'd think this is it."

"They've run out of ideas for Portkeys, haven't they?" Hermione had a memory of grabbing onto a boot back in her fourth year for the Quidditch World Cup.

Luna looked at her innocently. "What?"

"Nothing." Hermione hastened to reach out. "On the count of one, two..."

FWHIPPPP! Hermione felt her face compress together, her muscles tightening so much that every part of her face – no, in fact, her entire body was experiencing huge jolts of pain and discomfort; the whirlwind she was spiralling within was battering blows at her vacuumed body; a wave of nausea was threatening to...

THUD. "Oof!"

Another thud.

"Luna, are you okay?" Hermione whispered, wincing as she tried to get up from the stone-cold ground.

"Pretty much," came the reply, and Luna flexed her arm gingerly. "Where are we?"

Hermione looked around. They were in the middle of a very long and narrow corridor, but in contrast to the Slytherin dungeons, this was brightly-lit.

"This looks like some kind of a cave..." She turned around to scan the other end of the corridor. "I just hope it isn't East Ukraine this time..."

Suddenly, there seemed to be a buzzing sound. Hermione clammed her lips together, while Luna stood stoic, both of them with wands in hand.

_"...you are such an enigma, do you know that? You think they'd reward you for what you did? Do you know what you've gotten yourself into?"_

"I don't know what you are talking about."

Hermione could barely make out the words, but something tingled inside her.

_"You do know what your duty is, don't you?"_

"Do I need YOU to tell me?"

The tingle worsened; her entire body was shaking. Luna stared at her curiously.

"Hermione?"

"That's..."

"Yes, that's Draco Malfoy," said Luna, calmly. "And I'm quite sure the other one is Pansy Parkinson."

Draco Malfoy. The boy who had just turned her world upside down.

And Pansy Parkinson. The girl who had abducted Draco. Hermione could imagine her standing in front of a shackled Draco, tormenting him with insults and cutting words, while he spat and sent her glowering looks. She could hardly imagine what would come next.

_"You think she'll come? You're daft, Draco, daft! Even if that – that girl is stupid enough to believe you, she won't get past Rookwood!"_

Hermione clapped her hand to her mouth.

_Believe him?_ Had he been telling lies then?

The thought of it made her faint. Here she was, risking it all to come and save him, even at the expense of fighting alongside Harry and Ron against the infiltrators of the school... and everything was a lie?

And Rookwood – the renegade Death Eater. Both sides would dearly love to get rid of him.

_"Shut up Pansy!"_

Then, Hermione decided that there wasn't any point submerging herself in thoughts of doubt. If she was to be fooled, then she'd be a fool all the way. She didn't know when such recklessness had overcome her, but all of sudden, she just wanted to see him. See him right in front of her.

She began to run to the end of the corridor where the voices had come from.

Luna gave a start, and for the first time, a little frown came over her face. Then it straightened out again, and she followed suit.

Hermione skidded to the end of the corridor – but there was no one. Except –

A cell.

With two occupants.

_"HERMIONE?"_

The familiar tingle shot through her, as she could hardly believe it was that same deep voice that now hoarsely called out her name.

Her first name.

Draco's face appeared between the rungs of the cell, and his eyes were wide open, a complete turmoil of emotions within that expression. His blonde locks were falling all over his face, and his sharp cheekbones seemed to protrude more than ever – a very gaunt look even though he hadn't been gone for more than a day.

Instantly, Hermione realised why. He was tired. Weary, even. Completely weary.

Their eyes locked.

For one moment, neither of them could speak. Hermione felt as if she was going through another Apparating procedure, the vacuumed feeling washing over her once again. Her ears were ringing with the compression, and all she could do was to stare at those grey eyes that were speaking volumes to her, volumes that she didn't even know whether spoke the truth or were a bunch of lies, but they were there before her.

He was alive.

"Hermione..." His voice was in a ragged whisper. Now she could decipher his expression – utter relief.

"Excuse me, what did you just call her?" There was an incredulous voice.

Hermione was jerked out of her reverie, and she blinked, breaking eye contact with Draco – and looking within the cell.

Something was not right.

She had expected Pansy Parkinson to be at least – outside the cell, smirking at him.

Pansy was inside the cell. Looking just as pale and exhausted as Draco.

"Y-you..." She stared at Pansy.

Draco was surprised by her sudden diversion, and then looked back at Pansy. "She's... she's stuck in here too. Pansy, shut up, I'll explain later." And he earned a furious glare from his fellow housemate. "I mean – look, Hermione, use your wand, anything, get us out of here!"

"Didn't she – didn't she kidnap you?" Hermione couldn't move; she just kept staring at Pansy, who shot her a withering glare.

"Well yes she did, but – Hermione, I'll explain everything to you later, alright? Can you just open the door?" His voice was getting impatient.

"I deserve a right to know!" Hermione suddenly felt something rise in her. Here she was, hoping to rescue him from the clutches of that gait of a Pansy Parkinson, and now she was in the cell alongside him – Merlin knew what they had been discussing all this while as she was worrying herself sick about him – maybe it was also the fact that Parkinson might have been his girlfriend some point in time or another, or maybe even...

"Hermione Granger!" Draco lost his patience. "I asked you to come here to RESCUE us, not to interrogate us!"

"_US?_" Hermione glared daggers at him. "Is that what it is now? You got me here just to save you two? But actually you just wanted me to believe you when everything's a lie?"

"What are you talking about?" Draco demanded, his eyes wild with confusion. "A lie? Well yes – " He looked hastily back at Pansy. "There're lots of lies abound, but this is not the time to be talking about –"

Hermione's jaw dropped. "It really _is_ a lie!" _No, she couldn't cry. Not anymore. Definitely not in front of Pansy Parkinson_. "Malfoy, you're – you're – "

"Granger, what is WRONG with you? OPEN UP!"

Luna merely stood there, surveying the situation with a watchful eye. Then suddenly she whispered,

"Oh no."

Hermione was too devastated to pay attention. She just looked at the bewildered Draco with a completely broken expression. "So it really is your game? So it was your plan to tie my emotions to yours and toss me up and down like a pathetic toy? Just because I told on you once, you think it's tit-for-tat that you can play with me like that? Do you know how worried sick I was when I heard Corrinne say you were abducted? Do you know how terrified and guilty I felt, wishing that I had gone with you? _AND IT WAS JUST ALL A LIE?_" Her voice had risen into a shriek.

"GRANGER!" Draco exploded. "You're bloody insane! CAN'T YOU SEE I AM IN A FREAKING CELL?"

"You're lying to me again! It's a trap!"

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?"

"I told you you couldn't depend on her...", came Pansy's lazy voice.

"SHUT UP!" shouted Draco and Hermione, at her, in unison.

There was a very thick layer of silence that settled upon the tense atmosphere.

Then it was broken. "Ooh... one could almost conduct an entire Muggle electrical experiment with the electricity in here... such charged emotions..."

Hermione's eyes snapped away from Draco's and fixed upon the new character.

Then it flickered in recognition.

"It's rather late now, Miss Granger, what brings you here?" Augustus Rookwood flashed a crooked smile. "And your friend?"

Luna did not flinch, merely regarding Rookwood with a curious gaze.

"Screw it, Granger!" Draco was still at boiling point. "He's the one who's locked us in, blackmailed Pansy into kidnapping me, and now we're bloody stuck here without our wands! And he's got the diadem and is going after the rest! I can't believe you're suspecting me at this juncture!"

Rookwood hissed, and Draco glared coldly at him. Then the older Death Eater gave a sneer. "Draco Malfoy, don't pretend. you're going to give the diadem back to the Dark Lord together with me – and we will be honoured for our services in protecting his Horcrux. Maybe we might give Miss Granger here a little credit by mentioning her name to the Dark Lord, perhaps he might give her a little reward..."

"Augustus Rookwood, shut your filthy mouth!" It was Pansy who had screamed angrily.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Draco; her grip on her wand tightened.

"Oh look, Draco, she looks like she's ready for some battle..."

But the expression Draco was giving her back startled her.

It wasn't that of the cold look he had shot to Rookwood seconds earlier, or the furious look that he had on when arguing with her.

It was the look he gave her when he had kissed her.

The way his eyes had searched hers as he breathed heavily into her face, his hands firmly against her back, the two of them pressed up together in a ball of heat.

_"I'm a Death Eater... and you're a Muggleborn... do you need me to explain?"_

Another memory surfaced in her mind. A chilly, wintery image.

_"With that kind of circumstances in which my father was murdered, you can feel safer? What kind of monstrous being are you, Granger?"_

"I'm human!" She could hear herself speak. _"So I can tell that even though you may be mean, you may be insulting, rude, spiteful, arrogant, the thing is – you're not evil!"_

And then his voice – a cold, cutting one.

_"Moralising little Mudblood, you and I are NOT on the same route!" Her eyes stung as he said that demeaning word once again, the word that spiralled their relationship back into the days of pure spite and hatred. "Especially not when there's betrayal involved!"_

Finally – the whisper that had sent her nerves into a frenzy seemed to caress her ear once more.

_"You do the strangest things ever, Hermione Granger. Why do you do them?"_

Why did she do them? What had she just said?

This was infuriating! Why was she always shoved back and forth between believing him and doubting him?

"Are you contemplating which hex to give him?" Rookwood broke into her thoughts with an unsettling laugh. "I could give you a list."

"She's the brightest witch in our level, thank you," Luna said, with a nonchalant expression.

Rookwood's smile faded.

Without warning, Hermione suddenly lifted her wand –

"_IMPEDIMENTA!_" she screamed, as she blasted Rookwood into the wall, taking him completely off guard.

But before she could recover her nerves, she found herself being slammed against the cell gate. A sharp pain shot up her arm and head.

"HERMIONE!" Draco gasped, everything forgotten as he lunged for her before she fell to the ground. Propping her up with his arms as best as he could with the cell gate in between them, he shook her a little, prompting her to gasp in pain.

"Bloody hell..." He threw Rookwood, who was clambering up from the ground, the most deadly glare he could manage.

Luna did not miss a beat; she threw a hex over – and barely missed Rookwood. But a second later, she was sent crashing into the cell gate as well, shuddering the entire cell. Pansy had scrambled up to catch Luna as well, but she had poorer reflexes than Draco. Luna ended up tumbling onto Hermione, eliciting another gasp.

"_CRUCIO!_" Rookwood screamed, and suddenly both girls were tossed to the other side of the corridor. Draco watched in horror as Hermione screamed and writhed in agony, while Luna's face turned so white that she resembled a porcelain doll.

"STOP IT!" yelled Draco, completely horrified.

"STOP IT, YOU BEAST!" Pansy shrieked, shaking at the cell gate till it clanged and clanged.

Rookwood did stop, but his eyes were glinting with such menace that it struck fear into all the Hogwarts students. Hermione felt blood trickle out of her mouth, and her vision was blurring. Luna's eyes were closed, but she was still conscious; her hands were trembling – unable to lift her wand. Rookwood reached out to kick Luna's wand out of her grasp; Hermione's seemed to have been lost.

"Hmm... at first I only had two to play with. Now I have four. Things are getting very interesting. My Dark Mark is hurting... isn't yours, Draco?" He eyed Draco with an amused look, and Draco seethed as the Mark seemed to burn into him. "The Death Eaters are doing something big right now, pity I can't be involved. But this looks quite a big matter too, doesn't it?"

Then he looked back to the girls. "Now, tell me where the other Horcruxes are."

"I'm surprised... you think – so highly of us..." Hermione spluttered, throwing Rookwood a withering glance. "If you're s-so smart, go find out yourself!"

With that, Rookwood let out a roar of rage and threw another Cruciatus curse at her, eliciting a scream. Draco was in a complete wreck watching Hermione get tortured like this, that he could feel something hot bubbling within his eyes and blurring his vision. "STOP IT, YOU BLOODY DEATH EATER! IF YOU'RE SO SICK IN THE MIND, YOU CAN TORTURE ME! LET HER GO!"

Rookwood sniggered and made a tutting noise. "Draco, Draco, Draco! Too many girls that you're involved with. Trademark of a Death Eater, is that not? Relatively surprising though, considering your father wasn't really that kind, that prude..." And Draco's eyes flashed with pure rage.

Then Rookwood swung his wand towards Draco. "But very well, I shall grant your wish!"

-.-.-.-.-.-

"Remus?"

The tentative voice was echoing around the tower.

Albus Dumbledore stepped out into the open area. His sharp eyes caught sight of something in the shadows, lying against the wall.

Antonin Dolohov's lifeless eyes stared back at him.

_"Albus, quick!" Minerva McGonagall's voice rang in his head as he searched for information on what was happening, all the while as he made his way through the tunnel that led from the Hog's Head to his office. Harry was scrambling to keep up with him, his panting reminiscent of the flustered manner he had burst into the inn to break the bad news of Hogwarts being infiltrated. "Remus – Tonks said Remus was cornered in the Tower by Dolohov! She's met with Bellatrix along with Kingsley, she can't save him!"_

Dumbledore slowly turned around.

"Hello, Bellatrix."

The slim, wretched figure of Bellatrix Lestrange slipped out of the shadows, her straggly hair framing her bony face, as she eyed Dumbledore thoughtfully.

"Very astute, Albus, I see you're still rather good at that, aren't you? Eagle eye, always so observant, always so meddlesome!" She spat out the last word, a smirk forming. "Why, are you that ill, my dear, that you have to send so many people to come fight us? And so silly, really, I easily got out of that fight with Nymphadora and Shacklebolt. Really hate fighting with the Nymph, we're family after all... oh, talking about family, we're only here to pay my nephew a visit, is that wrong?"

"You are an unauthorised visitor, I'm afraid." Albus Dumbledore managed a smile. "Apologies, but that is the school rule."

"Such a stickler for rules, aren't you, Albus!" Bellatrix scoffed. "Can't stop caring for your students as Headmaster, until you'd bring them to places that they aren't supposed to go to! Pretend to be so nice to Draco and make him feel like – ohhh... we don't love him over here as much as Albus Dumbledore does... perhaps you'd do just fine as a fatherly figure since he's lost one... what a pity." She pouted. "What a pity."

"I'm glad Remus is fine."

"Don't you see, Albus? Don't you see why he's fine?"

"Yes, I do. You slipped away so that Tonks and Kingsley would be free to come up and save him before I came. Then you can take advantage of my worries and corner me alone. Very well-planned, Bellatrix," said Dumbledore, in a weary voice. His smile faded. "Alas, your plan can only go up to here. Bellatrix, it's best that you tell me where the Horcrux is."

Bellatrix let out a hysterical laugh. "Horcrux? _Horcrux?_ Would you think I'd ever let you know if I knew where one was?"

"If you love him, then you should guide him back to sanity."

"This IS sanity!" Bellatrix screeched, suddenly provoked. "And who are you – _YOU_ – to tell me how to love him!"

"Bellatrix, I..."

"ENOUGH!" Bellatrix's eyes flashed wildly. She held up her wand. "Any last words, Dumbledore? I'm sick and tired of listening to you preach. It's time for some playtime, and I love playtime."

Dumbledore did not move. He merely looked at her with a tired and aggrieved expression.

"Severus... you were the one who told on him, didn't you?"

"Told? I knew nothing!" barked Bellatrix, harshly. "I only _offered_ some information..."

"And what about your sister? What would she say if you hurt Draco?"

A smile appeared on Bellatrix's face, that rose all the way up to her sunken eyes and crinkled the skin around them.

"She'd thank me."

With that, she swung her wand upwards.

"And she'd thank _you_ too."


	34. Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem

**Disclaimer:** I have merely borrowed the concepts from Ms Rowling to spin my own fairytale of ... Dramione!

**A/N:** While this fic is primarily Dramione, the later parts of it need the rest to tag along to make the adventure more believable. After all, you can't really possibly tackle Voldemort without Harry Potter, can you! There will still be scenes with Dramione alone, but not as much as previously - hope you guys understand! Everything will tie in, trust me! ;)

Meanwhile, I should shut up and let you enjoy this one! Action galore again! Though the ending is not very enjoyable... I felt sad :( oh dear, what happened? Read on to find out!

* * *

"NO, DRACO, NO!" Hermione summoned all her strength to scream, and struggled to move.

"Hermione, get down!" Draco clung onto the cell bars in wild horror.

Rookwood was slightly taken aback by her sudden screams; the curse flew out of his wand – but at a sharp angle that narrowly missed Draco's head as he dodged and knocked into Pansy, who squealed.

Seeing that his spell had missed Draco, Rookwood gave a roar of fury and raised his wand again. However, Luna took advantage of that split second hesitation, and with all the strength she could muster, leapt at him, knocking him over.

"Wand!" Pansy gasped, pointing frantically at the spot beside Hermione.

Hermione's hand grappled around wildly; her fingers connected with the familiar length of her wand.

WHAM! Luna had suddenly been blasted all the way to the end of the corridor, where a small table was. There was a sickening crack, a gasp from Luna, and the sound of something clattering to the ground.

"_STUPEFY!_" Hermione screamed, catching Rookwood off-guard again. In his bid to dodge the spell, he rammed against the cell gate, and in a flash, Draco was up to grab his collar.

"LET ME GO!" Rookwood bared his teeth, trying his best to rip Draco's hands off him. But surprisingly, a very furious and agitated Draco was very difficult to fight against. Draco yanked at Rookwood's collar so hard that the Death Eater's skull connected with the metal cell bars with a loud CLANK. Rookwood roared in agony and was about to wield his wand once again, when Hermione took the opportunity to cast "_Expelliarmus!_" – knocking the wand out of his hand before he could respond. Rookwood's eyes widened with rage, and instead, reached out towards Draco to attempt to push him away.

"Luna!" Hermione whipped her head around when she heard another groan. Luna was lying in a heap, her blonde hair fanned out around her. Hermione found Luna's wand at the side of the wall where Rookwood had aimlessly kicked it away, and quickly made a grab for it. She felt an agonising pain shoot through her body when she tried to move, but she gritted her teeth and managed to stagger towards the end as Draco slammed Rookwood's head into the cells once again, forcing a trail of blood from his head.

"Luna..." Hermione whispered, and felt relief course through her when Luna lifted her head, looking terribly weak. Quickly, she thrust the wand back into Luna's hands, and then tried to help her up. Another sickening CLANG and a few angry words from Draco could be heard.

Then something glittering caught her eye.

Luna's slender fingers reached out for the shiny object, and held it out weakly to Hermione. "What is this?"

Hermione couldn't stop gaping as she took it.

She had never seen it before – but... this, this had to be it...

"HERMIONE, WHERE ARE YOU?"

"Malfoy, you'll pay for this –" CLANG! "OWW!"

Hermione swung back, and caught sight of Rookwood in a bloodied mess. Just as she took in the image of his head being slammed into the cell again, Draco must have leaned over too much, for Rookwood had managed to give Draco a huge shove, causing the Slytherin to lose balance and let go of Rookwood. Quickly, Rookwood shunned to the wall, away from Draco, and then his gaze fell on Hermione.

"GIVE ME THAT!" Rookwood bellowed, his eyes darting wildly from the object in Hermione's hand to his surroundings in hope to locate his wand.

In that instant, any doubts Hermione had about the object she was holding onto were dispelled.

"_IMPEDIMENTA!_" Luna hurled over the spell with as much strength as she could manage. Hermione found herself running towards Rookwood, and even as he doubled over, his eyes glinted as he saw the shiny object approach him at an accelerated pace.

"Give me that!" His arms were outstretched; his eyes were now glazed over with an insane ferocity.

"Draco, take it!" Hermione flung the object into the cell through the bars.

It rolled right to the centre of the cell, wobbled and lay still.

Rookwood's horrified gaze followed it.

Pansy gasped.

Draco lunged for it.

"NOOOOO!" Rookwood screamed.

Draco gripped the diadem as he raised it up, a million sparkles reflecting off the beautiful bejewelled Horcrux in his hand. Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem. The fifth Horcrux. Finally...

Hermione's eyes tore away from the glittering object in Draco's hand, and instead, shot another curse out at Rookwood, forcing the Death Eater back into the wall. Another powerful hex came from behind her to send him slamming into the wall again, the blood flowing all over his face and arms, and she saw Luna clambering up, her wand outstretched.

Draco's hands reached into the pouch within his robes, and pulled out the curved basilisk fang. Pansy stared in a mixture of mesmerisation and confusion as he raised the fang above the diadem. His lips curled as he gazed towards Rookwood with all the hatred in him. He wanted to make sure that Rookwood was seeing this very clearly.

_This beast must be destroyed... and I won't let anyone become just like him to ruin other people's lives!_

Indeed, Rookwood's face was a complete mess – apart from the dark red streaks all over his pudgy cheeks, his face was a total picture of utmost horror and devastation.

"NOOOOOOO..." He screamed with all his might, just as Hermione and Luna both shot curses at him, and Draco brought the fang down onto the diadem in a brutally swift manner.

A huge ball of light burst out, blinding everyone present. Rookwood's screams were cut abruptly, and Hermione could feel the light rays and heat waves engulfing her entire body, as if attempting to penetrate her and destroy her. There was nothing like this the previous times they destroyed Horcruxes. She almost thought she heard a wail, a tremendous roar, a heartrending shriek, a piercing scream... one after another... but most of all, she thought she heard –

Draco knew who was screaming. His eyes were firmly shut, but the agonising scream that was reverberating in his head was accompanied by an electrifying pain in his arm – the exact spot where he had been branded the Dark Mark. It was followed by another excruciating shock of pain through the arm where his fist was clenching the basilisk fang.

Finally, the ball of light seemed to recede, slowly, and then in an instant, it zipped back to allow Draco to open his eyes. A small speck of light was hovering over the diadem, where silver liquid was oozing out of where the fang had plunged into it. Then it disappeared.

Pansy let out her breath, and then Draco snapped his head up just to see Hermione and Luna collapse onto the ground, completely exhausted. Immediately, he yanked the fang out of the diadem. With both in hand, he darted towards the cell gate.

"Hermione...?"

She winced, and tried to right herself up again, but she was glancing in another direction altogether with a furtive look.

His gaze followed hers to the right, and he saw Rookwood in an unconscious state, slumped against the wall with a pool of blood behind him.

"Open the cell!" Pansy found her voice. "He must have the key!"

Hermione still sat on the ground in a daze, staring at Rookwood. Slowly, her eyes turned to meet Draco's, and they looked at each other for what seemed to have been a long time.

Words were completely failing her; she had just essentially accused him of betraying her earlier on, and now there was guilt, pain, misery, all eating at what should have been relief, happiness and – she just sat there, breathing heavily and searching his eyes for a hint of forgiveness. _Why am I even hoping for forgiveness? He had abandoned everything he had been taught, everything he had been socialised to hate, to believe in you, and to trust you. He even tried to take the blow for you just now. And what did you give him in return?_ As she thought that, his face seemed to look stonier than ever, and she felt a chill run down her spine.

There was similar emotional turmoil within Draco, only of a different sort. His was more bitter, laced with anger and frustration. But his frustration was not just about the fact that she had not trusted him – it was the fact that despite that, he was feeling desperate relief to see that she was alive, considering that she had been Cruciated, and was quite close to getting completely obliviated. He swallowed hard. His frustration was making him lock his features stiff, and he knew he looked cold and furious with her. But he couldn't help it – whatever it was, she had risked her life just to save him by coming here!

He wasn't worth it!

"Can the two of you stop staring at each other like that?" Pansy jumped up and banged the cell gate, startling Hermione and Draco both out of their tension-laden moment. "I don't know what the bloody hell is going on, but if that idiot's not dead, then we're going to be! Now will you move it and GET THE FREAKING KEY?"

Draco didn't stop Pansy from screaming; he closed his eyes and let her rant. Hermione could hardly move, so Luna got up and rummaged around Rookwood's robes. Finally, she picked out a bunch of keys and stepped towards the door. She looked at the different keys with innocent curiosity.

"You're really _loony_! Give me that!" Pansy's impatience was not quelled one bit.

"Here." Hermione stood up gingerly with the help of gripping onto the cell bars. She eyed the lock for a bit, then she scrutinised the keys, before pointing to a rather large, awkward-looking key. "I think this is the one."

Luna obliged, and the key turned.

Pansy shoved open the door, and Hermione almost fell since she was still holding onto the cell gate. But when Draco came out, she was rather glad she was still holding onto the gate. Her knees felt like they were about to give way any moment.

She didn't have to worry about giving way for long. A second after their eyes met once again, Draco had just stepped forward to embrace her. She let go of the cell bars and reached out to touch his back as he buried his face within her grimy, frizzy curls. Her right hand traced the back of his slender neck, and then his well-defined shoulder muscles... suddenly, she just couldn't think straight anymore. There was nothing more to think about than the fact that Draco Malfoy was holding her in his arms, he was alive, and with her once more.

"One Horcrux down..." he murmured into her ear, sending tingles running through her. She nodded dazedly, feeling that nothing at the moment would feel more triumphant than him being here, rather than anything related to the Horcruxes.

At the corner of her eye, she thought she saw Luna smile - a very dreamy-looking smile.

But there was another face to her right.

A very horrified and disgusted expression.

Hermione was suddenly dragged back to reality, and she tried to push Draco away. She only succeeded in lifting him off her shoulder, but he pressed her against the cell gate, his forehead touching hers. She found herself losing it just staring back into those deep grey pools that his eyes were. A tuft of blond hair fell in between them, and Hermione couldn't help reaching out to push it out of his eyes. The electricity that tingled between them seemed to crackle even more.

"Draco Malfoy, what – are – you – _doing_?" Pansy's strangled voice cut through the heavy emotions.

Draco released Hermione, but kept one hand at the small of her back, startling her a little. "There's time for that later." He quickly eyed the limp figure of Rookwood, and reached forward to pull out the two wands that were sticking out from behind him. As he handed Pansy's wand to her, he pointed his own at Rookwood.

"Oh so you're suddenly all clear-headed and authoritative-like again?" Pansy stared at him incredulously, and then gave the same look to Hermione. "I mean, you just went up to her and – "

Draco did not speak. Instead, he carefully aimed his wand.

"Draco." Hermione broke into his concentration. "Don't."

"He tried to kill you!" Draco stared at her in amazement, still seething from the image of Rookwood torturing Hermione. "And all of us!" He added for good measure, seeing Pansy's bewildered expression.

"Hogwarts is under siege." said Hermione, her face transforming into that of fear. "The Death Eaters have come."

Draco was stunned. "What?"

"They're here to find you, I would think," said Luna, simply. "But we're not very sure. We have to regroup with the rest. It was Harry who told us about it."

"Potter!" hissed Pansy, angrily.

Draco let out a swear word, and then glowered at the ground.

"We've got to go deal with them," insisted Hermione. "Don't kill him – it's not worth it. Don't – don't be like _him_."

_Him_. The Dark Lord.

Voldemort.

Draco felt the familiar lightheadedness overtake him for an instant. _Please..._ His father's weak voice rang out in his head. Then he looked back at Hermione, who was giving him a very determined look. _She didn't even beg me to save her._ He found himself lowering his wand unconsciously.

"How do we get back then?" he whispered, all the rage seeping out of him, and weariness overcoming him once again. Hermione winced, realising she had no idea.

Luna turned expectantly to Pansy, who was sulking very heavily.

"Pansy..." warned Draco, as he followed Luna's line of gaze.

Pansy scowled, then proceeded to stalk off.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Blaise, Astoria and Harry hurried along the corridor as quietly as they could possibly be. There were faint sounds of what sounded like spellwork, and Harry made Astoria keep behind him, since she did not have a wand. Blaise was growing more uncomfortable with each step, and Astoria stole quick glances at him as she moved along briskly. _He didn't really mean to do this... he's just completely misguided..._

Astoria's thoughts were halted abruptly when Harry came to a stop by a corner. There were advancing footsteps, pitter-patter – clearly someone was running towards them.

"Zabini!" hissed Harry. "Get your wand ready!"

Blaise looked reluctant as he drew his wand.

Whoever it was came at such a hurtling speed that Harry hardly had enough time to react; there was a sudden "AAHHH!", followed by "Ron!", and then "_STUPE –_ "

"Whoa, hold it, hold it!" gasped Harry, gripping Ron's arm in time. "Hey, it's me!"

Ron blinked. Then he dropped his arm and grabbed Harry's shoulders. "Harry, you're finally here! Did you get Dumbledore?"

"Harry!" Ginny's breathless voice was filled with relief.

"Into the shadows!" Harry quickly moved them, Corrinne and Neville round the corner. "First things first, who's after you?"

"Haven't the faintest idea," moaned Ron, panting heavily. "There were about four of them, and then one got blasted by Moody, the other still battling him – and there were these two crazed people after us!"

"Lupin joined us after a while," Neville chipped in, grimacing as he took a deep breath.

Harry let out a sigh of relief. "Then he's alright! I heard that he was being cornered!"

Corrinne was trying to catch her breath. "But then he and Tonks had to stop to deal with those two. I think I heard Tonks call one of them... Alec – Alecto or something?"

"The Carrows!" Blaise muttered.

"Who?" Harry spun around.

"_Zabini?_" Corrinne realised who she was standing beside, and then shot him an incredulous look. "You – you..." Then she noticed Astoria. "Greengrass!"

"Well yes, I'm safe and sound, my kidnapper's also my saviour, let's leave that out first, shall we?" Astoria snapped.

"But he's with _them_!" Corrinne uttered the last word with complete disgust and contempt.

"Shut up, Whitemayer!" growled Blaise.

"For now, we can only trust him, since apparently I heard he blasted Greyback into unconsciousness to save Greengrass." Harry shot Corrinne a warning look. "Okay now what? Who's left to tackle? The Order's all here already?"

"Crafty lot, these Slytherins..." muttered Corrinne, glowering.

"Yes the Order's here – Tonks, Lupin, Moody... not sure about the rest..." Ron trailed off, staring at Harry. "Hey, I asked you, where's Dumbledore?"

Before Harry could respond, there was another set of running footsteps. Ron immediately clammed up, and everyone stopped shuffling about and got their wands ready.

"Back down a little," whispered Harry, and they followed suit.

_"...can hear spellwork going on..."_

"Upstairs, I should think? Do you think..."

"I thought you had that stupid coin or something? Can't you find out where blasted Potter and his sidekick are?"

"Well clearly not when they're in the middle of fighting..."

Harry's eyes widened. Then without thinking further, he stepped into the corridor, oblivious to a muffled squeal by Ginny.

"_Hermione?_"

Ron let out a gasp; Ginny stopped silencing herself and gasped even louder. Quickly, they rushed out behind Harry.

There, in the middle of the corridor, was Hermione – Hermione with her shining brown eyes and a completely overwhelmed expression.

Harry didn't think twice; he ran forward, and so did Ron. The three friends met in the middle and immediately fell into a huge, tight embrace. Hermione could feel the tears welling up in her eyes again, and Harry was torn in between a huge ball of guilt and complete relief. Ron – well, Ron was just glad that they were altogether.

"Hermione, we thought you were kidnapped too or something!" And then Ron gave a sniff. "Merlin's beard, I'm turning into a sop!"

Hermione pulled back, her eyes still shining. "I'm so sorry I made you guys worry! But – but I went to ..." She cast a look backwards, and Harry adjusted his spectacles. He then realised that there were other people apart from Hermione. Luna Lovegood, who looked oddly fragile and bruised, but smiling in her usual dreamy manner like nothing had happened to her.

Harry's eyes narrowed at seeing the other two.

Ron was quicker, however; he strode up towards Draco Malfoy and gave him a huge punch in the face before Pansy or Hermione could react. Draco hit the floor, the diadem and fang clattering out of his hand.

"Bloody hell...!"

"You son of a – "

"Ron!" Hermione tried to hold him back, completely horrified as she stared at Draco wincing as he tried to get up, a very furious expression on his face. "What's gotten into you?"

"He _kidnapped_ you!"

"Err mate..." Harry hesitated as he helped to pull Ron back. "I don't think that looks like the case."

"What do you mean..."

"Hey, Weasley, stop your pathetic outbursts declaring your noble friendship to Granger," said Draco, sneering as he clambered up with Pansy's help, collecting back the diadem and fang at the same time. "Or have you lost all your wit that you can't even hold a decent verbal battle?"

Hermione threw him an annoyed look. Draco caught that, but refused to back down, glaring at Ron while he flexed his jaw.

"Ron." Hermione turned back to her best friend, in her I-want-you-to-listen-good-and-you-had-better-listened-good tone. "If he had kidnapped me, I wouldn't be here now, helping you in this battle. Now details can wait till later, because I think we have a fight going on."

Ron was about to protest in confusion, since this completely contradicted what the Death Eaters had said earlier on, when there was an audible whisper coming from behind them.

"_You're alive!_"

The trio turned around to see Astoria Greengrass step forward, her eyes swimming with disbelief and thankfulness at the same time. "Draco Malfoy, I thought they would kill you!"

The blonde Slytherin dropped the sneering look – it was replaced with a stunned expression.

"_Astoria?_ You – but – how – I..."

"This is crazy!" Ron was bewildered. "First, Parkinson is supposed to have kidnapped him, then he's supposed to have abducted Hermione...hey, what's going on?"

"First things first, about Astoria, she was kidnapped and then rescued." Corrinne didn't hide her disgust upon seeing Draco appear once again. "By the same person."

"Looks like his girlfriend pulled the same bizarre act." Ginny cast a suspicious look on Pansy, who turned pale upon hearing that.

"What did you say?"

Draco blinked. "Are you – wait a minute, are you saying _Blaise_ kidnapped Astoria?"

"You haven't told me why Parkinson's out here with you now, acting like nothing has happened." Hermione spun back, glaring at Draco pointedly, who gave her a sharp look indicating that this was far from the best time to be discussing the issue.

Pansy did not seize the chance to demand an explanation from Draco about Hermione, however. She was staring at Ginny bewilderedly. "_Blaise_ kidnapped Astoria?"

"Yes he did!" Astoria cut in, coldly. "He was made a Death Eater!"

Pansy almost collapsed; Draco's hand flew out to grip her elbow. Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"But I think a token one." Astoria rolled her eyes. "He seems to have been relieved of his duties, right, Blaise?" There was no response. "Hey, wait a minute..." She paused, puzzled. "Why are you all talking as if he's not..." She turned around and stared at nothingness. "Blaise?"

"Disappeared!" Ron snorted. "What a coward!"

"Shut up!" Pansy flared up.

"Excuse me, you're not much better..."

"Erm, people, we have a battle raging on upstairs..." Neville boldly interjected, but at the same time his voice was shaking. "Maybe that should be our primary concern."

"But we have two possible traitors in the midst!" Corrinne shot Pansy a poisonous look.

"I want to go look for Blaise..." Pansy tried to pull out of Draco's grip, but he was too strong for her.

"Don't be stupid," Draco hissed. "If he could become a Death Eater against your wishes, then he can do anything!"

"But..."

"Pansy Parkinson, maybe you should think about how to get rid of these people who have turned your boyfriend into a traitor!"

"Pot calling the kettle black!" Ron stared in amazement, finding their conversation a little too surreal for his liking. "You're talking as if you're on our side!"

"He is," Hermione said, suddenly, feeling a hot flush overtake her. "He is on our side."

She could feel Draco turn to look at her, but she resolutely refused to meet his gaze.

"You've been saying that all this while, Hermione, that's not going to convince me very much!" Ron glared at her, although he privately acknowledged that he was rather stupid to have believed in the Death Eaters' conversation earlier on, which was mostly likely said out of provocation. But he refused to admit that, and shifted his glare to Draco.

Draco reciprocated with a venomous look, but before they could argue any further, there were more footsteps advancing, this time down the spiral staircase at the end. Draco pulled out his wand, but before the others could scurry back into the corner, the Order members emerged from the dark shadow of the staircase, grim-faced and weary.

"Tonks! Lupin! Moody! Kingsley!" Ginny couldn't help calling out.

"A bit too crowded here, don't you think?" growled Moody as he walked briskly towards them. Then he stopped short when he saw Draco and Pansy in front of him. He glowered at them. "And what in Merlin's name are these two doing here!"

Draco was about to issue a scathing reply, but Hermione beat him to it. "They're – " Hermione faltered a little, casting a wary glance at Pansy, who was still looking chalk white. "They're ok – for now."

"He's a Death Eater!" Kingsley stared in surprise at Hermione.

"He's okay," said Harry, quietly. Hermione spun around to look at him in amazement, but he gave her nothing. Instead he continued to stare ahead at the Order members. Draco, on the other hand, chose to file away his utter surprise and shock regarding that reply for later, and turned back to regard the Order members with suspicion.

"What's that in your hand, Malfoy!" barked Moody, in his most intimidating tone.

"Later, please!" Hermione begged, casting a hesitant look at Draco's dark face.

Moody was about to vehemently object, but Tonks put a hand on his arm. Then she turned her kindly but tired gaze to Hermione. "You okay? We heard you went missing."

Hermione sighed. "Yes Tonks, I'm alright now. What about the Death Eaters, have they been...?"

"We came to check on all of you," said Lupin, grimly. "Moody got rid of Selwyn and Yaxley, and Tonks and I battled the Carrows till their ends, with help of Kingsley here. Mighty triumph that was, the Carrows are a bunch of insane siblings who have gotten quite powerful. Dolohov's been dealt with, that just leaves Bellatrix. Have you all seen her?" He frowned deeply when everyone shook their head.

Tonks fretted. "We've got to get to her before she starts doing anything... was battling her with Kingsley just now before she disappeared! Just allowed us time to get to save Remus from that cruel Dolohov," she winced when she remembered how strong Dolohov was and what he had done to Lupin, and Lupin placed an awkward arm around her.

"Don't know what that witch will do now, let's just split up and look for her – Harry?" He stared at Harry, whose mouth was slightly open, and gazing at him with a shocked expression. "Harry?"

"Oy!" Ron gave Harry a huge shove, and the bespectacled boy nearly lost his balance, such that Ron had to steady him with a hand. "Harry?"

"Bellatrix Lestrange..." Harry was having a hard time digesting it all. Astoria's voice saying, "_She's rising in the ranks..._", and McGonagall's urgent voice, "_Tonks said Remus was cornered in the Tower by Dolohov! She's met with Bellatrix along with Kingsley, she can't save him!_", and then the image of Bellatrix throwing a jet of red light at Sirius, pushing him backwards into the flowy curtains that engulfed him – took him to the other side...

"Harry!" Hermione ran forward to grip his shoulder. "What's wrong? Is your scar hurting you again?"

"Dumbledore..." Harry whispered. "He came to rescue you, Remus..." and Lupin's eyes widened with horror. "And Bellatrix must have lured you away by allowing Tonks and Kingsley to – to – "

Remus Lupin did not hesitate any second longer; he spun around and ran towards the staircase. Tonks wordlessly followed. Harry then broke away from Ron and Hermione's hands and ran with all his might.

Following which, Draco Malfoy found himself running alongside everyone else up the staircase. His mind was in a complete whirl, what with the whole Horcrux issue that was still swirling around. The diadem was still in his hand. He had just made another step towards destroying the Dark Lord by ridding the world of another Horcrux. And then there was Hermione Granger, although it was best not to think of her for now... then of course, Blaise and Pansy's complicated plans of kidnapping that had ended up with him and Astoria both free, and now nothing could be more important than the fact that Albus Dumbledore was face-to-face with his ruthlessly conniving and insane aunt. Draco had definitely noticed the waning strength of the Headmaster over the last few days since they came back from the dreaded cave, and this was definitely not a good sign.

No, not good at all.

He ran ahead of the pack, just trailing Ron and Hermione, who were calling after Harry.

Before he even reached the peak of the staircase, he could hear intertwining screams.

"NOO!" Remus Lupin's roar of fury. "_EXPELLIAR –_ "

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!_" Bellatrix's voice seemed to be strengthened by a thousand elixirs.

"NOOOOOO!" Harry's cry of horror.

Draco flew up to the doorway, squeezing beside a shocked Hermione and Ron – only to see the Headmaster of Hogwarts fall backwards, almost theatrically, like a puppet with its strings cut... he couldn't even see Albus Dumbledore's face, just the body tipping off the parapet.

In less than half a second.

Gone.


	35. Fall of the Great

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter. Nope, not at all.

**A/N: **This chapter is slightly shorter than the rest, but an important filler one in my opinion. The next few chapters are going to get us back into action, so get a bit of rest on this one - next week we're in for a big ride!

Meanwhile, maybe you might wanna think about - what happens to the Horcrux theory? How many left? Who are the remaining Secret Keepers? This chapter offers some answers, but not all, so you'll just have to keep guessing...

* * *

Draco stood there, his feet completely rooted to the ground. He could barely hear anything that came after Harry's screams. Even when there was no sign of Albus Dumbledore; even when Harry and Remus leapt forward to accost Bellatrix Lestrange, who had zipped across to the balcony in a burst of wild cackles and launched herself off the tower as well. He couldn't even move despite everyone rushing past him to lean over the balcony, with horror etched over their faces – pain and despair in Harry's and Remus's. He only found himself jerking back when a warm weight fell into his arms, and he had to back off to catch the weight.

Hermione.

The instant she fell into his arms, which had instinctively reached out to catch her, he found the aching silence in his ears disappear – like whatever was stuffed in his ears had been yanked out. Now, he could hear the cries of horror and rage ahead of him, but his eyes were concentrated on the figure in his arms. Hermione's eyes were glazed over, her lips slightly open – stunned. Completely, and utterly stunned.

Draco pulled her close to him, his face in her bushy curls. He swallowed hard.

_"I am Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy..."_

"Yes Draco..." The familiar silky voice threaded through the cold air. "You must take on your father's responsibility and perform your duties with perfection. And you are now given one of the most important tasks I could ever entrust to a Death Eater..."

No. No, it couldn't be.

_"Voldemort must have given you a mission at your induction. If it's not killing Harry, what is it?"_

"Granger, stop prying!"

"Just answer me, and I'll tell you how the plan goes, alright?"

He watched as Hermione Granger sink to the ground, weak from being shaken hard by him.

"I'm to kill Dumbledore."

He looked at the mass of brown curls he had buried himself in, and felt her cold fingers cling to his arms.

_Her eyes were wide open. Stricken. "You can't," she whispered._

"I can do anything."

He shut his eyes tightly.

_He had pulled out his wand without thinking. Reflex. Anger and rage were overwhelming his senses. All he wanted to do was to blast the wizard in front of him into oblivion. Mission accomplished._

"And what is this for?" Dumbledore had asked, quietly. "To fulfill your duty, or to shut me up?"

"Don't think you're so clever, Albus Dumbledore, you don't know me at all. Yes, I wanted to find out the truth behind my father's death and avenge it. But I will do anything to avenge his death, including rising to the top of the pack. And what would I not do just to get there? You are but a pawn in my game!"

Yes, a pawn. Only but a pawn. He was ready. Even though he knew it was an empty threat. Voldemort would never take him back again. Mission would never be accomplished.

"No, you're a pawn in his game..." And then Dumbledore sighed. "Draco..."

Draco's thoughts were interrupted when he found himself shoved to the side, along with Hermione, as Remus Lupin and the other Order members burst down the staircase. Mad-Eye Moody was launching a tirade as he ran, but Draco could barely make out what he was growling about. Harry made to chase, but Ron pulled him back.

"Harry, let them go and find Slughorn and Lestrange! You can't do anything!"

"What about _Dumbledore_?" Harry's raw whisper sent a chill through everyone.

Hermione's hand shot out to grab Harry's arm. "What – what happened?" Her voice was hoarse.

"Lestrange..." Corrinne's face was deathly white, her red eyes blurring into bronze. Neville was supporting her, he himself completely shocked as well. "She didn't die; she was levitated back into the grounds by Slughorn... and Dumbledore – he, he..." And for the first time, the strong and defiant Corrinne Whitemayer burst into shuddering sobs, burying her head against Neville's chest.

Hermione slackened in Draco's arms, and he wrapped his arms tightly around her. Dumbledore's words came back to him again, reverberating around him.

_"I may be weakened, but there are many more weak points about you than you think you have, Draco. One of them is that you are incapable of killing somebody you know who doesn't deserve to be killed."_

Harry broke away from Ron and Hermione's grip and quickly descended the staircase. Ginny followed without a word. Ron gave a furious glare at Draco, then turned and ran down, along with Corrinne, Neville and Luna. Pansy was standing by the doorway, shaking badly as she turned to gaze at Draco and Hermione. Astoria took one look at the duo as well, then took Pansy by the hand and led her downwards quickly.

"Hermione..." Draco whispered.

"I..." She struggled to speak.

Draco made a hushing sound. "Talk later. Let's go down first."

Hermione let herself be helped down the stairs by Draco. Everything before her was a blur, and she nearly tripped over a few steps if not for Draco's strong arm holding her around her middle. Eventually they made it to the foot of the staircase, and out of the building into the central square, where the rest were gathered. Hermione broke away from Draco's grip and stumbled towards them... and there were Lupin and Harry kneeling by the great Headmaster's side. Lupin's head was bent, and Harry's fists were clenched as he stared at Dumbledore, tears running down his cheeks. Ginny knelt down to slip her arms around his waist, while Ron placed a hand on Harry. Hermione looked at him, and saw that he, too, was trying to blink his tears away.

Hermione sank to her knees as she picked up the half-moon spectacles that lay by the side of the Headmaster, cracked and twisted. Beside her, Draco knelt down as well, and he let Hermione lean against him as she shuddered with quiet sobs. He kept his gaze on Dumbledore – the wide-eyed expression, the half-ajar lips – so unlike the confidence and regality that usually shrouded the Headmaster. Harry reached out to place his trembling palm over Dumbledore's face, and as he slid it down, the wide-eyed stare was no longer. Looking at the now relatively peaceful countenance of Dumbledore, Draco almost reached out to touch his great white mane. Then he retrieved his hand, and lowered his head into Hermione's curls, closing his eyes.

-.-.-.-.-.-

They were all sitting in Professor McGonagall's office, after she had met with them along with the other staff members. Draco had watched as Professor McGonagall stepped into the courtyard, an aghast expression overcoming the usually serious and solemn look. Upon standing over Dumbledore, she covered her face with her hands for a long while. When she removed them, her eyes were glimmering with sadness. By then, the rest of the school had woken up, and slowly, the streams of students were pouring out, and into the central courtyard. Then everyone had stood there in silence, in shock, in reverence. Nobody even whispered as Hagrid came over, sobbed loudly, and finally carried the body of Albus Dumbledore out of the courtyard. Immediately, Minerva McGonagall had them go to her office without a word, and there they sat, red-eyed and weary.

Draco found himself observing every single one of them in the room as they waited for Professor McGonagall. Or rather, they needed time to compose themselves. Astoria and Pansy were beside him, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Astoria glanced up at him, but he merely looked back with a blank expression, which made her look away again. Pansy was picking at the floor idly, and her face was still pale. Corrinne and Neville were sitting at the far end, with Corrinne's face buried in Neville's shoulder, while he took her hand. Ron was standing beside them, staring at the ground as he crossed his feet and then uncrossed them, before crossing them back again. Harry sat on the chair next to him, and Ginny on the arm, her hand on his shoulder, rubbing back and forth. She looked up briefly, and for a moment looked straight at Draco. The red curtain of hair fell back into her eyes as she dipped her head down again, her grip tightening on Harry's shoulder.

Luna was sitting beside Draco, a very angelic picture – sitting upright and staring straight ahead, her ethereal appearance restored. Draco felt one side of his face twitch just remembering all the cuts and bruises on her perfect complexion earlier. On the other side of Luna, just adjacent to Harry, was Hermione. Her head was hung like Ginny's, and her hand was in Harry's. Draco looked away when he noticed that and sank back in his seat. His sudden movement caught Ron's eye, and the ginger-haired boy's head snapped up.

Draco raised his eyebrows at the sudden perkiness of Ronald Weasley. "You have something to say, Weasley?"

Ron knew better to say anything, so he merely glowered at Draco and folded his arms. Draco turned his defiant gaze to Hermione, and it softened when he saw her looking at him with a quivering lip. Then he gazed back at the little army that had been battling the Death Eaters when they had arrived.

_It was my personal vendetta... my personal hunt for revenge... yet suddenly they're all involved in this. All these stupid Gryffindors... and Ravenclaw... I didn't want anybody to be messed up in this along with me!_

He gritted his teeth. The image of Dumbledore, lying spreadeagled on the courtyard, without his trademark spectacles – it was a sight to behold, the fall of one of the greatest wizards ever. To think that he once really wanted to kill Albus Dumbledore just to prove his loyalty to Voldemort. If it had not been for Dumbledore, he wouldn't have destroyed the Horcruxes he had managed to do so so far, and definitely not have known about how to go about exacting his revenge.

"Your family..." There was a harsh whisper, and Draco raised his eyes to meet Corrinne Whitemayer's now gleaming red ones. "They're all killers." She bared her teeth. "_All of them!_"

In a flash, Draco forgot all sentimentality and stood up, almost knocking his chair over in his rage. That made everyone stand up instinctively as well, Neville particularly to shield Corrinne, his eyes daring Draco to make any move.

"My father," Draco seethed, "is _nothing_ like Bellatrix Lestrange! Don't you _dare_insult my father again!"

"He MADE MY PARENTS INSANE!" screamed Corrinne, who had to be held back by both Neville and Ron. Draco took a step forward, but Astoria put a hand on his arm. "How dare you say he was nothing like that crazed woman, he was just as ruthless, calculating, and INHUMANE!"

"Stop it, the two of you!" Hermione stepped into the middle, glaring back and forth. "We're all as distraught as it is!"

"Distraught?" Corrinne sneered, her eyes glistening. "How could cold-blooded people ever be _distraught_?"

Draco was so incensed that he had reached for his wand. At that moment, Professor McGonagall stormed into her office and glared around; Draco and Corrinne were pushed back by an invisible force back into their original positions – the chair and the floor.

"In case you forgot, Whitemayer," Draco's low voice had a hint of danger as he struggled to sit up straight on his chair, "I've lost my father too."

Corrinne's eyes were narrowed into slits, her hands trembling as she righted herself up as well.

"Childish behaviour!" Professor McGonagall glared at both of them coldly, before she strode up to her desk, and sat down on her chair. "I've heard what had happened from Remus and Alastor, so I need not question all of you over that. But in the midst, there were a few of you who had disappeared from the grounds of Hogwarts, and I want an explanation for what went on. Miss Greengrass, could you first begin?"

"I think I'm not the one who's capable of explaining everything." Astoria turned her gaze to Pansy.

"Very well then. Miss Parkinson?"

Pansy lifted up her head, and everyone could see that she had been shocked very badly – first by Blaise's betrayal, and then Dumbledore's death. Professor McGonagall pursed up her lips, then decided that she would speak to Pansy alone, followed by Astoria. The rest were to go back to their common-rooms and not breathe a word to anyone as of yet. She would make the official announcement about Dumbledore's death and give a thorough explanation.

However, just before they were about to trudge out of the room, Harry bumped against Astoria as she was making her way to one of the chairs to wait for Pansy to be done, and his green eyes met her own brilliant emerald ones. In an instant, Astoria's words came back to him again.

_"She sent Blaise to kidnap me... and she's out for collateral damage. She will do anything to please You-Know-Who, even if it means sacrificing her own nephew. Maybe even her sister. She's rising in the ranks, Potter."_

Once again, the image of Bellatrix Lestrange laughing hysterically as Sirius Black fell backwards into the wisps of smoke that enveloped him... this time, it was followed by the image of Albus Dumbledore tipping off the railing, his arms outstretched, and Bellatrix's look of wild ecstasy as she gazed back at Harry, a maniacal smile on her face – before she burst towards the railing and launched herself downwards as well...

"Harry?" Ron's concerned voice broke through his thoughts. The whole lot had stopped walking because Harry had stopped.

"Potter, is there something wrong?" Professor McGonagall's voice echoed sternly from the back.

Harry spun around, then he walked right to the middle of the office, surprising everyone. He steadied himself to look Professor McGonagall straight in the eye, then he took a deep breath before saying,

"Bellatrix Lestrange has to be one of the Secret-Keepers."

It was at that moment that the Order members chose to enter Professor McGonagall's office as well, and Remus Lupin started a little when he heard what Harry had to say.

"I don't know who the other is," said Harry, his voice shaking. "But Lestrange definitely has to be one of them."

"What's a Secret-Keeper?" asked Astoria, blankly.

"Never you mind that first," replied Harry, looking at her. "But when you told me she had ordered your kidnap in order to lure Malfoy out, and that you felt she was getting a bit too concerned about carrying out Voldemort's orders, there is no other person more important to Voldemort, and more loyal to him, than that – that..." He trailed off, swallowing hard. Ginny stepped forward to take his hand, and he gripped it tightly.

"Dolohov told me that he had replaced Wentervale as Secret-Keeper for the cave where we found the locket Horcrux," cut in Lupin, grimly, and Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows. "He didn't interfere when we attempted to destroy it, because they planned to weaken Albus from the very start." His face had turned very hard. "It was all planned."

"Four Secret-Keepers..." Hermione whispered, stepping forward beside Draco. "Maldash Wentervale, who was then replaced by Antonin Dolohov. Lucius Malfoy, who was then replaced by Augustus Rookwood. Bellatrix Lestrange... there's still one more! I couldn't figure out at all. This just means our last Horcrux and Keeper are completely elusive!"

"No," said Professor McGonagall quietly, and all turned to look at her. "Before Regulus Black was killed by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named for being a traitor, he had entrusted a Secret to him." Her lips trembled slightly. "And Regulus gave it away to Albus. The moment he gave it away, he was found by Snatchers, tortured, and then poisoned." She closed her eyes. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was unable to find a replacement and whisk away his Horcrux to safety, because Albus found it by then."

"The Gaunt ring!" Draco muttered, enlightened.

"Albus did not tell all of you who he knew it from, out of respect for Regulus. But at this juncture, I think it is prudent that I let you know."

"Regulus _Black_?" Harry echoed.

"Yes Harry," Professor McGonagall acknowledged quietly. "Sirius's brother. He once turned to the Dark side, but sorely regretted it. He has paid for his grave mistake."

Harry looked stricken at the mention of Sirius once more.

"But, Hermione, you mentioned only one last Horcrux left, excluding the one Lestrange is hiding?" Tonks asked, surprised. "If I'm not wrong, the diary, the Gaunt ring, the locket, and the cup are the only four that have been destroyed?"

Hermione looked at Draco, and he held up the diadem. Professor McGonagall gave a gasp.

"What is that?" demanded Ron.

"May I say," Moody growled. "That what you're holding is the diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw?"

"Yes," said Draco, shortly. "I discovered it surreptitiously in the Room of Requirement. And I have destroyed it." He indicated the silver liquid that coated the base of the diadem. "The fifth one down."

Then Draco's face turned grim and dark. "If Aunt Bella is really the last Secret-Keeper, my mother might know something about it. The two of them are always together. I would like to go back to the Manor to talk to my mother."

"That is out of the question!" Moody retorted. "You are a defenceless child!"

Draco's eyes flared and he grabbed his sleeve, shoving it upwards to reveal the terrifying Dark Mark. Everyone recoiled in horror upon seeing it, and even Hermione flinched.

"Don't call me a _child_," said Draco, with a sneer. "And I'm not going there alone. I want guaranteed protection for the Manor while I'm there, and continued protection for my mother even after. I will not let Aunt Bella try to get close to her again!"

"Then may I add that _that_," Moody jabbed a finger towards the Dark Mark, "is a good enough reason why you shouldn't be going there alone! Furthermore, Bellatrix Lestrange is an accomplished witch! And that would be an understatement as well!"

Draco snarled, ready to retort.

"Yes, you're not going alone," cut in Hermione, suddenly, and everyone turned to look at her. "I'm coming along."

"No!" Harry and Ron gasped at the same time.

"No!" Draco was startled, a beat later than the other two.

"Miss Granger..." began Professor McGonagall, but Hermione looked at her defiantly.

"Then we're all coming along!" Ron said, hotly.

"No, Ron, we can't have everyone in there," said Hermione. She stared at Draco, who was torn between looking livid and despaired. "I'll manage."

"Professor..." Harry looked helplessly at Professor McGonagall. However, the newly-anointed Headmistress had a good feeling she would not be able to dissuade her favourite student out of this, and despite Draco's fierce protests along with Harry's and Ron's, Hermione was adamant, as she felt Draco might be too emotional and slip up while talking about Bellatrix. Finally, they gave in, albeit very reluctantly with scowls.

Seeing as that was the best option, Professor McGonagall agreed that Draco and Hermione should go visit Narcissa Malfoy. Draco placed the diadem on Professor McGonagall's desk without looking at her or saying a word. Harry then requested for a short period of time to talk to Hermione, and Kingsley immediately left through fireplace to summon the rest of the Aurors. Lupin and Tonks followed suit, and finally Moody, after giving Draco a long and hard look that was clearly intertwined with heavy suspicion.

Once the students, except for Astoria and Pansy who had to remain to relate their story to Professor McGonagall, were outside, Harry insisted that Draco come along with him, Ron, Hermione and Ginny to the corner where they always went when they wanted a discussion. Draco hesitated, a scowl emerging, but Hermione gave him a look that ended all protest. Luna, Neville and Corrinne left the rest to themselves, with Corrinne still seething with anger.

When they had sat down, Hermione wanted to get the first word in.

"I'm sorry!" she blurted, and then flushed a deep red. Harry and Ron looked solemnly at her, while Draco looked visibly uncomfortable having to sit in the middle of what seemed like a 'confession session'.

"I'm sorry for not telling you guys about the diadem," she mumbled, and Draco – who was bent on appearing bored and condescending – suddenly looked surprised. He hadn't expected that. Why, he thought she would have told them everything about the Room of Requirement. Then he had remembered how cold and furious he had been when they had come back from the cave, and he had prevented her from telling that to Dumbledore. Now, he was beginning to regret that move quite a bit.

"And for just disappearing off to find Dra – I mean, Malfoy."

No wonder they were so relieved to see her just now! Draco had to look away again in order not to appear like an idiot gaping at Hermione's revelations. She had chosen to save him over fighting alongside her friends!

"So what's this about Pansy kidnapping you, and then coming out with you again?" demanded Harry, and Draco turned back upon realising he was being addressed. With a sour look plastered on his face, he reiterated Pansy's tale, and all of them were quite stunned. Harry then added in what he had heard from Blaise and Astoria, and Draco found himself enlightened. Blaise was so _stupid_! How could he ever have believed anything those people said? If they were even people... Draco found himself clenching his fists thinking of the apparition of Tom Riddle smirking at him.

Ron cleared his throat, and Draco eyed him warily.

"I still don't like the idea of you going to the Manor with him, Hermione. He might kidnap you for all we know..." Ron wrinkled up his nose, and Draco snorted, earning himself a huge glare. "But then Kingsley and the rest are going to be there, so I can't possibly say no."

"Whatever it is..." Harry looked at Draco, although the latter chose to look away instead, a sullen expression on his face. "I trust that if you're really fighting for your father, then we're both fighting to get rid of the same evil being. I can promise that we will do everything we can to obtain the last two Horcruxes. Whether you or I destroy it doesn't really matter as long as he can be finished with. All I ask, Malfoy, is that if Hermione is going along with you, you had better make sure she comes back alive. Or else..." His voice turned hard, and Draco knew what the consequences would be. This time, he met Harry's gaze with a twisted smirk.

"I never thought it would come to the day when I would have to have all you pseudo-heroes helping me. Especially when you had gotten someone to spy on me, Potter."

Hermione looked at him disapprovingly, and Draco's smirk deepened.

"It's not funny," Harry said, a little angrily. "I don't care how much you look down upon us, whether I was being despicable, but Hermione's done so much for you, heck, she's even saved you!"

"I know that better than any of you!" Draco retorted, and then scowled at having been so easily irritated. "I know what to do," he added gruffly.

Ginny looked at him thoughtfully, then she showed Hermione the same thoughtful expression. Hermione knew that Ginny could somewhat understand, and smiled a little. Then she turned to Harry and Ron, took their hands in hers, and squeezed. Ron nodded reluctantly, while Harry squeezed back. He didn't know whether to be guilty or grateful ever since the fateful first day of school in the Hogwarts Express when he had told Hermione to try to be "nice" to Draco Malfoy. However, when he saw how Hermione turned back to Draco to place a hand on his arm, earning a look that didn't seem too unpleasant, some part of him realised that it wasn't such a bad move after all.

-.-.-.-.-.-

The dark grey clouds rolled over with a rumble, like a huge curtain being drawn over the sky. No rain would fall, only a gloomy, despairing air seemed to seep into the little village. People were hurrying back home, praying that they wouldn't be caught in the thunderstorm. The sky grew darker, though for a moment, it lit up with a flash, and the tall obelisk in the middle of the village illuminated for a grand moment.

He stood by the gate, watching the illumination. The corner of his mouth twisted.

The gate creaked open as he walked in, almost ghosting through. There was a heavy fog settling down, but he carried on walking all the way through the long blades of grass. Nobody could have heard him, or even seen him, as the thick layer of fog engulfed him.

But he saw what he was looking for. Long, wretched-looking fingers reached out to touch the top of the tombstone.

"He will die."

A little cackle came from the side. A figure emerged from the fog, her wild hair unmistakeable.

"Yes," she drawled, extending her own slender fingers towards the tombstone. His hand flinched; she drew back. "My apologies, my..."

"Silence!" he hissed, and she seemed to shrink back further.

Then he turned back to the slab of stone before him. He bent down to trace the words with his fingers, a smirk playing across his face.

"You... you who have borne the one who has a vengeance, oh such a deep vengeance – to kill me," he whispered, tracing the 'L' back and forth in the carved name. "The _Chosen One_, they call him." He let out a cold laughter that would have chilled anyone to the bones. "Chosen to rid the wizarding world of a bubonic plague called the Death Eaters, and then – " His fingers had reached the 'P'. "_Me._"

"And then..." He straightened himself up, pulling his fingers away abruptly, as if he had been touching something poisonous. "The person who serves me has now turned back on me too. The _Foolish One_, I call him. How can he ever dream of antagonising me? The Dark Lord who gave him a chance to reinstate the family name after his father had sullied it to the core? How can he?" His voice had risen to a highly dangerous note. A loud crash of thunder descended upon the village, perfectly timed. "And I was told he would prevail against me..."

A sudden shout of wild laughter. He threw his head back and roared with laughter. "Prevail against _me_! Severus, Severus..." he shook his head, still laughing. "You cannot be so naive as to think that boy could do anything against me." The laughter was cut short as his eyes were trained back onto the tombstone. "But then he destroyed my Horcruxes – first, thanks to your precious son, and then subsequently that meddling fool of an Albus Dumbledore..."

"My Lord, I have..." The female voice was laced with a mixture of fear and fascination.

"I know." The voice was curt. "Do you think I would not know?"

She did not say anymore.

"And then..." His eyes narrowed. "There comes the _Foolish One_to rid me of three more. I will not have it anymore. He has eluded me time and again, and I will make sure he will go down. And I will personally wring his life out of him with my own hands!" He extended a finger towards the tombstone. "Your son included."

He swung himself to face the huge layer of fog that had completely obscured the village. But then he opened his arms wide, and the fog cleared a little to reveal the obelisk in the middle of the square.

"Albus Dumbledore, you may be dead, but I'll make sure that your two precious little students will join you in the realm of the Dead."

His eyes glinted. "Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, just you wait."


	36. Visit to Malfoy Manor

**Disclaimer:** If I had the ability to churn out such an amazing story like Ms Rowling, I wouldn't be sitting at the computer twiddling my thumbs - I'd be jetsetting to everywhere possible! But enough of that dream...

**A/N:** Hope you guys like this one, although - uh-oh not very pleasant stuff ahead ...

* * *

A flash of light blinded her momentarily.

Before her eyes could adjust to the new environment, Hermione found herself being tugged, and she nearly tripped.

"Ow!"

There was a gruff sound that seemed a little awkward, and Hermione noticed that Draco was holding onto her arm, balancing her as she stepped out from the fireplace. Seeing his grim face come into focus, her eyes began to wander. The first thing she saw was a brilliantly-lit grand crystalled chandelier.

Not the only one around.

"Mother?" Draco's impatient voice interrupted her thoughts. He let go of her arm. "Mother?"

The Malfoy Manor was huge. No – enormous. Was there even an adjective that could describe how incredibly spacious it was? Not to mention exquisite, extravagant, and opulent?

"You – live here?" Hermione managed to squeak out.

Draco stopped calling his mother, and his eyes narrowed in a mixture of confusion and impatience. "Did you think I'd get my Floo navigation wrong, or that I cannot even recognise my own house?"

Hermione had always known Draco was wealthy, but this was insane. Not only were there chandeliers just _metres_ away from one another, they were far above – the ceiling was at least two storeys away from her. There were huge Roman pillars crafted with gilded serpents coiling around them lining the hallways, beautifully ornate furniture, soft carpeted floor, long French windows that reached near the ceiling, but now draped over by exquisite curtains. Hermione had to make a conscious effort to stop her jaw from dropping.

"Mother!" Draco was now beyond impatient; he sounded afraid. He strode up the grand stairway, brushing off the soot from his robes as he did. "Mother, I need to speak to you!"

There was a sudden slam of a door, and when Hermione spun towards the sound, a figure with long golden curls had zipped along the second storey to the top of the stairway. The moment Hermione saw her, she felt a sudden chill go down her spine. At that very moment, both pairs of eyes locked – Narcissa's icy blue ones with Hermione's soft brown ones.

"There you are!" Draco sounded relieved.

Hearing her son's voice once again, Narcissa broke the gaze lock with Hermione, and stared at her son. The look on her face seemed to be that of despair, and Hermione was vaguely troubled by the sight of it. Narcissa descended the stairs quickly to grab hold of Draco's shoulders.

"What are you doing here, Draco? What are you doing here?"

It was not a question; it was a plea. A plea for Draco to go away.

"Mother, where has Aunt Bella been off to lately? You must tell me all that you know!"

Narcissa did not seem to hear him; her eyes grew wide with desperate fear. "Draco, you must go to the Dark Lord, you must tell him that you didn't mean to do all that to him. Tell him you were foolish. You must go back to him, you must carry on for your father!"

"Mother, what are you talking about?" Draco was aghast. "You know the Dark Lord was punishing us for Father's sins!"

"You don't get it!" Narcissa was hysterical as she clung onto Draco's robes. "Severus – he has been summoned back to the Dark Lord..." Draco's face paled. "He will die, Draco, he will die if you don't follow the Dark Lord's wishes. If he fails to protect you, he will die from the Unbreakable Vow first as well! Don't be foolish, Draco, you are overcome by your rage, you must follow your Aunt Bella – "

The mention of Bellatrix Lestrange seemed to catapult Draco into anger. "I am not following _her_ anywhere!"

"You must apologise to the Dark Lord, Draco!" Narcissa was rambling feverishly. "You must apologise to him and tell him that you will be his loyal follower again, I can't lose you, I can't lose you after I lost Lucius, Draco you must understand, you must understand!"

Even Hermione could understand now – Narcissa was afraid of losing a second loved one to Voldemort.

Draco had difficulty calming himself down, but he tried his best. "Mother, it's impossible. He won't buy it anymore. I've betrayed him too far."

Narcissa's look turned wild, and her eyes darted towards Hermione, startling the girl. "It's her, isn't it? That's Potter's girl, isn't it? She's been influencing you – this, this _Mudblood_!" Both Draco and Hermione flinched. "She's been instigating you to move away from the Dark Lord, it's all her fault, tell the Dark Lord it's all her fault, it's not yours!" Her voice had risen to a shriek.

"Mother!" Draco lost his patience and gripped his mother's elbows hard, shaking her. "It's nothing to do with her! It's the Dark Lord's fault! He killed Father, he made me become his minion knowing how heartbroken I was, and I wanted to avenge Father! If there's anything, it's him!"

"Draco, take that back!" There were tears streaming down Narcissa's cheeks, and Hermione winced to see how desperate she was. "Don't say that! It was your father – your father had disobeyed him..."

Draco couldn't hold it back any longer. "Mother, do you know why Father disobeyed the Dark Lord?"

It didn't seem like Narcissa knew, for she gave him a blank stare through glistening eyes.

"He disobeyed the Dark Lord – for _us_."

It wasn't like Draco to sound so sentimental, but his voice was choking.

Narcissa looked completely bewildered. "What are you talking about, Draco? Lucius – Lucius failed to kill that exiled, diseased man... he was killed for his incompetence..."

"Mother, how could you, of all people, believe that?" Draco clung onto her arms, with an expression of disbelief on his face. "How _could_ you?"

Narcissa buried her face in her hands. "I don't know, I don't know! Lucius wasn't even alive to tell me what happened!"

"Father died because he wanted to protect us..." Draco swallowed hard. "The Dark Lord wanted every Death Eater to eventually sacrifice their families when this war is over. Father couldn't let that happen, so when he was summoned to find Maldash Wentervale – the two of them actually conspired to share the secrets of the Dark Lord that were entrusted to them... once these secrets were destroyed, the Dark Lord would be destroyed."

Narcissa let out a gasp of shock.

"But when Father let Wentervale go a second time in order to prolong the finding of the – the secrets, he knew he had met his end." Draco's voice was now trembling.

"How do you know all this?" Narcissa whispered, but Draco's face was now twisted in a mix of pain and rage – he could hardly reply.

"We met Wentervale," Hermione spoke up, quietly, and Narcissa's head jerked towards her. "He told us what had happened to... to Mr Malfoy."

"You met Wentervale?" Narcissa's voice was incredulous.

"It's a long story, Mrs Malfoy," Hermione bit her lip. "But your husband left a series of clues for Dra – I mean, Malfoy to find Maldash Wentervale. And he did. But once the tale was out, Wentervale – he died." And the memory of Wentervale's passing made her heart ache.

"You're lying..." Narcissa was now looking very white. "Wentervale was lying..."

"Mother, if he lied, I wouldn't have gotten so far to finding those secrets and destroying them," Draco broke out of his grief, his eyes burning with fury. "And I'm very sure Aunt Bella knows one of these secrets! I need to know where she has been going, so that I can go destroy it! Destroy the soul of the murderer who killed Father! Mother, do you understand?"

"The Dark Lord..." Narcissa was losing it; suddenly, Draco had loosened his grip on her, and she just sank to the carpeted ground in a daze. Draco hurried to help her up, but she remained rooted. "He – he told me that Lucius had betrayed him, had been tempted... and I believed him..." Her gaze turned towards Draco, a very helpless gaze. "I believed him, Draco, I believed him completely..."

"Mother, now's not the time to blame yourself," Draco urged. "You need to believe me now. You need to tell me where Aunt Bella has been off to of late!"

Narcissa tried to clear her head. "I... come to think of it, she's been very suspicious of late... she told me she likes to go somewhere to remind her of her duty to the Dark Lord... she said..."

Before Narcissa could finish, there was a sudden howl of wind – Hermione spun around to face the fireplace where a whirlwind of flames and soot were bursting out. Draco instinctively released his hold on his mother, leaving her leaning against the steps in a daze, and ran forward to pull Hermione away from the whirl. Almost immediately, the main entrance of the Manor burst open, and all the Aurors were rushing in.

To his horror, Draco saw the figure of Bellatrix Lestrange materialise from the whirlwind. She moved so fast that she was a blur – and all of a sudden, a wide-eyed Narcissa was hauled up roughly into Bellatrix's arms, and Draco found himself staring at his aunt holding his mother hostage, with her wand pointing right at him. There could be no word to describe the way he was almost seeing stars from his rage.

"One move, Drakey, and mommy's dead," Bellatrix purred.

"I TOLD YOU TO MAKE SURE SHE DOESN'T COME!" Draco exploded in Kingsley Shacklebolt's direction.

"Surrender yourself, Bellatrix Lestrange!" It was a pathetic order, but Kingsley stood his ground, wand raised, together with his band of Aurors behind.

"No, back off!" Draco gestured wildly with his hand. "She'll kill my mother!"

"Bella, no!" Narcissa gasped.

"Cissy, Cissy," said Bellatrix, sighing, her eyes still on Draco. "I thought you were trustworthy, how could you be so sentimental? How could you believe what this foolish young boy says? He is resentful, resentful that the Dark Lord doesn't trust him, so he makes up all these stupid stories to make you weak and surrender to his filial piety!"

Draco could hardly speak in the state of fury he was in; Hermione glared coldly at Bellatrix. "You are such a heartless woman. How _dare_ you do this to your own sister!"

"Are you lecturing me, my dear little _Mudblood_?" Bellatrix snorted derisively. "You are just a little plaything in the Dark Lord's eyes. You may have the brains, but you are nothing in the grand scale of things! Your words are..." She put on an expression of disgust as she brought a finger to her ears. "Urgh, pollution to my ears!"

Hermione's eyes narrowed as she flushed angrily.

"But oh..." Bellatrix's gaze travelled down to where Hermione was now gripping Draco's wrist tightly, preventing him from doing anything rash. "I see that dearest Draco has gone a lot further into hell than we had thought. What a pity, Draco, you like the Mudblood?"

"Don't. Call. Her. THAT." Draco seethed.

Bellatrix smirked. "Your mother is in my hands, and you care about what I call Potter's lackey? Draco, you really need to re-assess your priorities..."

Draco stared at his mother, agony contorting his face. "Mother, don't listen to her!"

Hermione shot a pleading look to Kingsley, but she knew it was in vain. Bellatrix would be too fast for them. If only – if only they could distract her...

"If I'm Harry's lackey..." Hermione steadied herself as she glared back at the insane Bellatrix Lestrange. "Then you're no better for Voldemort."

"How dare you speak his name!" hissed Bellatrix, eyes flaring. "And he is the _Dark Lord_, not some puppet master! He is powerful and strong, and he will kill Harry Potter!"

"He's just using you!" shouted Hermione.

Bellatrix burst into a frenzied cackle. "Do you think I'd buy that? Do you think I'm so easily swayed?"

"Bella!" Narcissa choked out.

"I'm sorry, Cissy..." cooed Bellatrix, her expression morphing into that of sorrow. "I didn't mean to hurt you. Your precious son made me do this..."

"Mother, what I told you was true!" Draco yelled.

"Now, now, Draco, no need to get all worked up, I'm sure your mother will love you enough to send you back on the right track." Bellatrix smiled wistfully. "Would you like to go back with me?"

"Hogwarts..." Narcissa suddenly trained her gaze on Hermione. "Hogwarts and its houses..."

Draco's eyebrows furrowed together; Hermione raised hers.

"And – and trees! Lots and lots of them!"

"What are you talking about, Cissy?" Bellatrix's grip on her sister seemed to have tightened as Narcissa grew even paler.

"The tree... _inside_..." Narcissa's eyes widened as she choked.

Before Draco and Hermione could even interpret what she meant, Bellatrix suddenly went incredibly wild. It was as if a huge convulsive spasm had overtaken her; her movements were so quick and wild that nobody really saw what she was doing. But when Narcissa slumped out of her grip onto the floor, eyes rolling back, there was no question as to what she had done.

"NOOOOO!" roared Draco, and he lunged towards his mother.

"Draco!" gasped Hermione.

It was all too sudden; there were red jets of light shooting across the hallway from the Aurors, as well as Hermione, but Bellatrix Lestrange had skipped aside, and created a Shield Charm to block all of them instantly. The crazed look was still plastered on her face, torn between mocking delight, rage, and anguish. Her insane cackles filled the air along with the crackle of the spells shooting out from wands.

"Can't catch me!" She laughed hysterically.

However, the moment her gaze fell on Draco who was cradling his mother with one arm, an agonised expression pressed against the pale, stoic face of her sister – Bellatrix Lestrange's face twitched.

With that twitch, the Charm momentarily faltered. And in a blink of an eye, Draco had directed his wand with his other hand towards her.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" He screamed, with all his might.

The moment the red jet of light connected squarely with Bellatrix Lestrange, the entire Charm disappeared, and from all angles, red streaks shot directly at her.

Within a split second, the Death Eater had collapsed onto the floor, her eyes wide open with a chillingly maniacal stare, and her lips frozen in a smirk.

Draco stared back, his lip quivering.

His mother's face was cold against his cheek. Icy cold.

His wand hand dropped to his mother's rigid body.

_Mother... you can't leave me._

In the next few seconds, the Aurors had all surrounded the body of Bellatrix Lestrange, while Hermione hurried over to Draco, whose anguished look was terribly heartbreaking as he held on tightly to his mother, rocking back and forth and whispering frantically. When Hermione was near enough, she could hear him whisper,

"Mother, wake up, you have to wake up, you can't leave me alone... you can't leave me alone just like Father, you can't... you have to wake up now, Mother, please wake up, please, please, _please_!"

The Aurors were moving off, levitating Bellatrix Lestrange off with them. Kingsley knelt down beside Draco and Narcissa, and placed a hand on Draco, who shuddered involuntarily at the touch.

"I'm sorry," Kingsley said in an even voice. "She came from an unidentified location, and we could not intercept her in time."

Draco closed his eyes and buried his face in his mother's golden hair. Then, slowly, the blond-haired boy released his hold on his mother, as another Auror along with Kingsley slowly levitated the body of Narcissa Malfoy, away and out of the house.

It was just Draco and Hermione by the fireplace. The flames had long died away, and the Manor now felt cold and empty.

"Draco..." Hermione whispered, pained.

And then the once-arrogant and snide Draco Malfoy, who had become a Death Eater for the sake of fulfilling his father's legacy and taking revenge on his father's murderer, completely broke down. That horrified Hermione more than anything, for even though she had seen him shake and crumble in a rare moment of vulnerability after the Quidditch match, she had never seen him cry. But there he was, with tears rolling down his cheeks – Draco Malfoy was convulsing in sobs that made her heart ache terribly. Immediately, she flung her arms around him, fighting the urge to cry herself.

"Draco... don't be like this..."

Apart from the heavy grief that he was emanating, Hermione could sense a bubbling froth of rage. "He made me lose my parents..." Draco choked out. "I – will make him _pay_ for this!"

The fire of revenge in him had never been stronger; the image of Narcissa's limp body, the image of Lucius reaching out to him in his dream and whispering pathetically, _"Please..."_, and the insane look of Bellatrix Lestrange as she fell to the carpeted floor. Within that few minutes, he had lost every remaining member of his immediate family. And it was all because of him.

Voldemort.

_I am Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy – and Narcissa Black._

And I will hunt you till your death.

"Draco, you've got to pull yourself together." Hermione's voice was surprisingly steely. It seemed to offer him strength. "Your mother gave us a clue to the Horcrux Bellatrix was hiding."

Draco sat up suddenly, causing Hermione to unlock her arms around him. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand furiously. "She did?"

"Remember what she said about the houses of Hogwarts, and trees? Well I don't know what that really means, but I'm sure we can find it out when we get back." Then her voice softened. "You must hold on Draco, if you really want to avenge your parents. You must hold on to search for the last two Horcruxes. It's only this way that we can get rid of him."

Hermione was right; he couldn't stop there and grieve just like that. He had a personal mission to complete.

"Let's go back." Draco's voice cracked as he spoke, but the fiercely determined look in his eyes said everything. He was going to fight till the very end. This time, Hermione did feel the tears welling up in her own eyes as she took his hand – tears of pride.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Large, flowing, white curtains billowed in the wind, as the long windows had been magically created in the Great Hall. More white fabric hung from the ceiling, which had been charmed to look like clouds of white fluff. There were no long tables, but the long benches remained, where all the staff and students took their places. In the middle of the Hall, was a great rosewood coffin that held the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. There were a few sniffs and one or two crying, but most people remained solemn.

Harry, Ron, Ginny, Neville, Corrinne and Luna sat in the front row with Professor McGonagall. Harry's head was bent, his spectacles in his hands. Ron shifted uneasily, while Ginny kept shooting side glances at Harry. Neville had his arm around Corrinne, whose eyes were closed and her eyebrows knotted tightly. Luna's, too, were closed, but in a peaceful manner, as if she were dreaming.

Professor Flitwick was reading some kind of a eulogy, but none of those few looked like they were paying attention. Ron cast a glance ahead at the bench on the other side of the coffin, and Pansy's and Astoria's heads were bent like Harry's. He frowned a little, then turned his head towards the entrance as a little creak was heard. He stifled a snort when he saw who had entered.

Ginny noticed his movements, and then followed his gaze to the black-haired, olive-skinned boy who had just entered. Instead of sitting beside Pansy, he slid onto the bench right at the far end. A hard look overcame her face.

When the main eulogies were over, there was a short break where everybody could relax for a bit. Ron let out a sigh as he hunched over, while Ginny walked over to Harry's side to squeeze his hand. With the other, he put on his spectacles, and when he lifted up his head, everyone could see how bloodshot his eyes were.

"Mate, ease up." Ron looked at him worriedly. "The nightmares getting to you?"

Harry ran a hand through his tousled black hair. "Sort of. I'm worried about Hermione too. I wish she was here. She would have wanted to attend this."

"Narcissa Malfoy is our last hope." Ginny chewed her lip. "Otherwise there's no way we can get anything out of Bell – I mean, that evil witch."

"Actually..." Corrinne's voice cut in, and everybody turned to look at her. "I just remembered something. I was telling Neville the other day that there's a possibility as to what one of the Horcruxes is."

"Oh yes!" Neville was enlightened.

"What about?" asked Harry, wearily.

Corrinne then told them of her suspicions that the Horcrux was probably something, or someone that was close to Voldemort, so that not only would it be hard to destroy, but if Voldemort's current entity was destroyed, this Horcrux would have the newest memories and escape to create a new entity altogether. When she was finished, Ginny's eyes were shining.

"What's on your mind, Gin?" Harry held her hand tightly.

"You need someone who sees Voldemort often to find out what is close to him. What he has been protecting all along."

"Hang on," said Ron, teeth gritted together.

Astoria and Pansy had made their way towards them, the latter a little reluctantly. "Hey," said Astoria, with a sense of urgency in her voice. "Has Draco come back yet?"

Harry shook his head. "No news yet."

"Anyway, as you were saying... someone close to Voldemort – you talking about Malfoy?" Ron's voice was laced with distaste.

Ginny shook her head. "He hasn't been going back since a long time ago, right? I'll bet there's someone in this Hall who's seen Voldemort more lately than Malfoy has."

"What are you talking about?" Astoria asked.

Ginny hesitated. Even though Astoria and Pansy were now exposed to the details, they only understood things on the surface. There were still many stories yet to tell to them, and probably not wise to say so now.

But Astoria was sharp. She understood that they couldn't possibly tell her everything now, so she just shrugged. "Someone who has seen Voldemort lately? You want to try Blaise Zabini?"

A little smile came onto Ginny's face. "Yeah, that's what I was thinking."

At the mention of Blaise's name, Pansy looked uncomfortable. She turned to see where he was, but he was getting up and ready to leave the Hall. Seeing that, it was Astoria who took off to accost him, and within a minute, had him brought in front of the rest. Blaise refused to look at any of them, merely staring at the floor and sucking at his bottom lip.

"Are you still working for _him_?" Corrinne made no effort to hide her contempt and disgust.

Blaise did not say anything; he shuffled a little.

"I said, are you still working for him!" Corrinne raised her voice, and Neville had to tug her hand, for people were starting to stare.

"Come on, let's go somewhere quieter," whispered Harry, and the little entourage made their way outside the Hall, save for Astoria, whose sister Daphne had pounced on her to demand answers as to where she had gone to. "Now, Zabini, we know you're in this pretty deep, you know that you're not going to survive being a Death Eater any longer after your little rescue mission." Harry's voice had turned hard. "He's not going to let you off."

"Regardless of whether I'm a Death Eater." Blaise raised his head, and his gaze was defiant. "So why do you care whether I'm still working for him? Isn't the answer obvious?"

"Yes, the answer is obvious," said Luna, coolly. "Otherwise you'd be dead by now."

Blaise glared at her.

"It just shows you have a conscience." Harry jabbed his finger at Blaise' chest, and the latter flinched. "And I'm pretty sure you have an idea why Voldemort was hunting Malfoy down."

Blaise's eyes widened. "I only know he was being a traitor. I assumed he didn't complete his mission... I –" His gaze wandered to the entrance of the Great Hall. "I don't know, alright, I don't know anything! I'm already dead meat, there's nothing more to say!" He ended, tersely, pushing past Harry and Ron.

"Blaise!"

He stopped short.

"Blaise..."

"Shut up, Pansy, I've nothing to say." But his voice was quivering. "Especially to you."

"No, but I have something to say to you. Blaise, I – I don't care. You – did wrong, yes, but you can start over."

"Start over?" Blaise barked harshly, turning around to meet Pansy's pleading gaze. "What do you mean start over? The Death Eaters think I'm a traitor just like Draco. They'd kill me when they find me, and that's a piece of cake. And this side? You think anybody's going to believe that I was foolish? No, I calculated the risks. I just didn't count on my conscience eating me up to go save Astoria Greengrass!" His voice was bitter now.

"You were weak, Blaise." Pansy tried to steady herself. "But you can make amends for it. And I'm not going to let them touch you."

It couldn't possibly be a promise; Pansy would be nothing against the Death Eaters. But the sincerity in her voice couldn't be doubted. She wanted to forgive him. Blaise swallowed hard. After he had disappointed her so badly, she was willing to forgive him. How could he deserve that? He opened his mouth to say something cutting and bitter, but he couldn't say anything.

"Listen here, you tortured soul," Ron suddenly cut in. "We don't have time anymore. We want you to think about anyone, anything close to Voldemort that could possibly hide a soul piece." Everyone stared at Ron, but he continued to glare at Blaise. "We don't have time to calculate whether you're good or bad anymore. But I think you should know which side will save your arse. And the way to get rid of that jerk who made use of you is to destroy these things that he places his soul in. It can be objects, people, animals, whatever. You may choose not to help us, but it also means we won't help you when you're in it deep."

That was a long speech for Ron, and the most confident one he had ever given. Ginny and Harry exchanged mildly amused glances, while Blaise looked terribly conflicted.

"The answer is obvious." Luna reiterated, her blue eyes shining. This time, Blaise did not glare at her. Instead, the wind seemed to have gone out of his sails, and his shoulders sagged.

"Frankly..." He hesitated. "I don't really know... I've only seen him twice actually..."

"Blaise, think harder." Pansy stepped forward to hold his hand. With that touch, Blaise stumbled a little.

"Objects..." Blaise bent his head. "Well – he doesn't take anything with him but those black robes – and his wand. Would – would his wand be one of it?"

"I doubt it," said Harry, quickly. "He could be disarmed anytime."

"So says the boy who specialises in _Expelliarmus_." Ginny chuckled affectionately.

"The thought of him making people into Horcruxes is sick," cut in Corrinne, her red eyes glowing dangerously. "But he can't possibly trust anyone to put his soul into it. What if the person decides to betray him and commit suicide?"

"Corrinne has a point." Harry sighed.

"Did you say... animals?" Blaise cocked an eyebrow at Ron.

Ron looked puzzled. "Erm – yeah, I did. I don't know. Ad verbatim from Dumbledore."

Blaise mumbled something under his breath.

"What?" demanded Harry.

"I don't know actually, I can't think of anything that he's been guarding very preciously," said Blaise, finally. "But if I could make a guess, there's something that he has which kind of embodies a bit of his personality. Like his soul piece. And it's always with him at important events, like induction ceremonies..." His voice grew bitter. "Except mine, because he said it was busy carrying out some mission for him. I guess I wasn't important at all."

"What _is_ it?" Corrinne demanded, impatiently.

Blaise looked around at all of them. "Nagini."


	37. Another Adventure Begins

**Disclaimer:** The people who don't get to live in my story live on Rowling's, and those she doesn't let live in hers live on in mine. At least, most of them - so far... the nature quote Draco spouts in the middle of this chapter is from James Prior (I have to admit I don't really know who he is, but the quote fit perfectly, so yeah ;))

**A/N:** This chapter is a buildup to the next one, which will be really exciting! But meanwhile this one is full of emotions, memories, tension... hope you guys like it, and let me know! Once again, a huge thank you to all my readers and reviewers; I broke the record again with 800+ hits on the first day the last chapter was published! Keep helping me break records, okay :p

In the meantime, enjoy!

* * *

Upon their return to Hogwarts via Professor McGonagall's office fireplace, Draco and Hermione were told to wait a while before the Ministry officials came to discuss Narcissa's funeral with Draco. There was an emotionless expression on Draco's face as he sat down, with Hermione taking the chair next to him, casting worried glances at him every now and then. It had just been minutes ago that Draco had watched his mother fall onto the carpet of his own house, dead. Just when he was on a mission to avenge his father, his mother was taken away from him as well. Hermione knew she would never understand the kind of grief Draco must be going through at the moment. She saw Draco's clenched fists, and wished she could touch them to ease the tension. However, when she saw Professor McGonagall's sharp eyes flicker towards them, she lowered her head and closed her eyes instead, only to be confronted with the image of Bellatrix taking Narcissa hostage, her wild eyes flashing...

_"Hogwarts..." Narcissa suddenly trained her gaze on Hermione. "Hogwarts and its houses..."_

Draco's eyebrows furrowed together; Hermione raised hers.

"And – and trees! Lots and lots of them!"

"What are you talking about, Cissy?" Bellatrix's grip on her sister seemed to have tightened as Narcissa grew even paler.

"The tree... inside..." Narcissa's eyes widened as she choked.

Hermione's thoughts were interrupted by the entrance of various important-looking people, who had to be the Ministry officials. Arthur Weasley was with them, and after a short bout of whispering with Professor McGonagall and the other officials, he came forward to Hermione and Draco.

"Mr Malfoy," Arthur began to say, but Draco was not looking at him, his head bent low. "Mr Malfoy?"

"Draco," whispered Hermione, this time reaching out to touch his hand. Draco flinched; she withdrew her hand, shaking a little.

"Just speak." Draco's voice held no emotion.

"Mr Malfoy, we would like to discuss with you your mother's funeral arrangements, if that's possible..."

Draco held up his hand, his head still bent. "I leave it to all of you. But I wish for it to be delayed."

Arthur looked puzzled. "Delayed till?"

"Till I'm done with what I have to do."

There was a flicker of understanding in Arthur Weasley's eyes. "But..."

"It won't be long." Draco finally raised his head, his features set in a hard line. "Just let me finish him off."

Nobody moved for a while.

Hermione looked at Arthur, and he returned the look. Finally, he took a step back, and motioned for the officials to leave the room. Just before he exited the room with them, his gaze fell on Draco again. But without a word, he turned and left.

-.-.-.-.-.-

"So..." Ron hesitated, as all of them settled into the small armchairs that were neatly arranged around the fireplace. He cast a suspicious glance at Draco, whose face was tilted away from the glowing light of the fire, gazing at the door from which they had come through. Harry had decided that the Room of Requirement was the best place to come to discuss, given the throngs of students that were all around after Dumbledore's funeral had ended. Ron had not been pleased that Draco was allowed to come into the Room, though Hermione had to gently remind him that Draco had entered it before, only for a different purpose and thus in a different setting. "So how were things?"

Hermione shifted in her seat uncomfortably. "Well – we've got a clue for the Horcrux."

Harry nearly jumped out of his seat, and everyone looked at her in anticipation.

"We were given hints... and I've been thinking about it for quite a while, but it doesn't make any sense to me," said Hermione, trying her best not to look at Draco, who was in his own world. "What do the houses of Hogwarts and lots of trees – specifically, the inside of a tree – have to do with anything?"

"Huh?" Corrinne looked confused. "That sounds completely irrelevant to me."

"The houses of Hogwarts?" Ginny mused. "Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin."

"Trees? You mean like rosewood, maple, oak?" Ron raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Hufflepuff Oak?" Luna asked. "Ravenclaw Pine?"

"I have this image of a forest," Hermione sighed. "Lots and lots of trees... what could it possibly mean? And the inside of a tree –"

"The inside of a tree is a hollow," offered Neville.

There was a sudden noise from Harry that sounded like a wild yelp. Even Draco turned to look at him.

"Did you say _hollow_?" Harry's eyes were glittering with excitement.

Neville nodded, puzzled.

"What's up with a hollow?" Ron demanded.

"When I went to find Dumbledore at the Hog's Head, his brother Aberforth was there," said Harry, in a low voice, cracking slightly when he mentioned the Headmaster's name. "He told Dumbledore that he had to tell me my parents' resting place. But Dumbledore said he didn't have the time to tell me about it, he just said he would bring me there one day."

"And so...?" Corrinne looked at him skeptically.

"My parents' resting place was called..." Harry took a deep breath. "Godric's Hollow."

"Godric!" Hermione was enlightened. "Godric Gryffindor!"

"But that doesn't explain the 'lots and lots of trees' bit..." Neville hesitated.

"_Forests grew / Upon the barren hollows..._"

This time, everyone's gaze shifted to Draco, who was still staring at the door.

"My mother..." Draco's voice was shaky. "She loved nature. Sometimes... she collected nature quotes from famous wizards and witches and made them into her own song. I could memorise all the lyrics even though –" He gave a bitter laugh. "Even though I'd never admit to singing them."

Then he closed his eyes.

Hermione clammed her lips together to prevent them from shaking.

"Hermione..." Harry's voice was gentle now. "What – happened?"

Hermione hung her head. "Bellatrix... she killed Narcissa Malfoy."

There was a quiet gasp that rang round the room. Even Ron looked disturbed, and shot a guilty, uneasy look at Draco.

"Narcissa managed to drop us some hints just before – you know," Hermione mumbled. "I thought she was incredibly brave."

Draco opened his eyes to look at Hermione, and his lips tugged upwards a little. Hermione managed a smile back.

"So where is this Godric's Hollow?" asked Corrinne, clearly determined not to look at Draco.

"Haven't the faintest idea," muttered Harry, then he looked rather angry. "But thinking that Voldemort made a Horcrux in a place where my parents are buried and where we used to live as a family... that's just sickening!"

"Yeah." Ron shook his head. "That creature is completely abominable!"

"Anybody who could possibly know of that location?" Hermione pressed.

Harry shut his eyes. "Remus Lupin?"

Ron shrugged. "Worth a try, Harry. I don't think any of the other professors are going to be free to entertain our requests for now. I think they might even try to stop us from doing anything stupid now that Lestrange was able to elude all the Aurors!" He quietened down, casting another awkward glance at Draco, who was still not looking in their direction.

"That's true," Ginny chipped in. "They're not letting the students go home because of the 'dangers' surrounding Dumbledore's death. They're not going to let us out of the school. Also," she eyed Hermione and Draco. "Professor McGonagall announced earlier that there's going to be a reduction of classes, and that she and Professor Flitwick will take on Slughorn and Snape's classes..." She trailed off, with a worried expression. "Do you think Snape is really working for Voldemort?"

Up till then, Draco was swarmed with images of his parents, overcrowding any possible ideas that could come in after the discovery of the location of the next Horcrux. When he heard Snape's name, however, a wave of emotion overtook him and he had to close his eyes again. He didn't know whether he should finally reveal Snape's identity. But as of now, he did not know what had happened to his Potions master and mentor. Perhaps it was best not to say anything. His fingers curled up and his nails scratched against the wood of the armchair. _He has to be safe..._

"Essentially, we know the locations of all the Horcruxes now, it makes things easier," Harry said firmly, only to have Hermione round on him in surprise. Even Draco sat up straight and stared at Harry. "Oh – yes, you still don't know..." And he proceeded to tell them about what Blaise had suggested to be the last Horcrux.

Draco managed a weary smirk. "That's a good one. But at the same time, nobody knows where Nagini is."

"Are you positive, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"I think it's our best bet," said Corrinne. "Malfoy, we really can't find it?" She scowled a little, for her tone sounded more gentle than she intended it to be.

Draco didn't look like he wanted to answer that, but finally he just shook his head. "More likely that it will find us first. And I must warn you – a basilisk fang is not enough to penetrate Nagini's skin. Furthermore, it's likely that a twitch of his head will send you flying before you even try."

Hermione smiled. "I know just the thing that might work."

"What?" Harry was surprised by Hermione's confidence.

"The only item by the founders that was never made into a Horcrux."

-.-.-.-.-.-

"So how does the sword recognise a _true Gryffindor_?" Draco stared disbelievingly at the Sorting Hat that Harry had just taken down from the top shelf of Dumbledore's office cupboard.

"I don't know, maybe in times of – courage?" Harry looked a bit embarrassed. "I pulled it out when the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets was about to kill me. I suppose we will know in time."

"That means, I won't be able to use it, right?" Draco narrowed his eyes.

Harry shrugged. "We're on the same mission, Malfoy. It doesn't matter who destroys the Horcruxes."

Draco scowled.

"And you will do well to remember that both my parents were murdered by Voldemort as well," said Harry, thinly, and he looked around the office. "In fact, _directly_. I want him dead as much as you do."

Draco was silent for a moment, trying to suppress the grief in him. Then he snickered a little. "So Harry Potter the Chosen One is believing that a Death Eater will help him achieve his mission?"

Harry threw him a dark glare, then was about to turn away when Draco called him back again. "Potter!"

"What?" Harry spun around, annoyed, only to see Draco's hands on a book on the table. "Hey, don't just touch anything in sight!"

"It's addressed to Her – Granger," Draco pulled a little note off the book cover. "_Tales of Beedle the Bard_?" He scoffed. "Dumbledore wanted to give Granger fairytales?"

"Hey," Harry warned, and then he stepped up to take the book, flipping a few pages. "I'm sure there's a reason why he wanted her to have this book."

"Oh, I forgot, you don't know what this book is about." Draco's tone was condescending. "Every wizarding child knows this story." He paused, wiping the sneer off his face, for he knew that was quite a low blow at Harry; even Hermione. "Look, it's a real war out there, why'd the hell would he..."

"Don't be..." Harry sighed and rolled his eyes, putting down the book. "Malfoy, Dumbledore has a reason for doing what he does. Including trusting you." He eyed Draco, who didn't look too happy about that. "And when he and Hermione both decided to trust you, I don't think I have much of a choice either."

"I don't give a damn whether you trust me or not."

"Oh yes, you better do," Harry shot back. "Because Hermione will want me to trust you."

At the mention of Hermione, Draco felt a dull ache in him. He had originally only wanted to make use of her to help him decipher his father's clues, he had even considered making her the sacrificial lamb at the beginning. But now, he was deeply regretting getting her into all this. After losing so many people that were dear to him, he didn't know if he could handle it if Hermione was to be killed. The mere thought of it made him cringe.

"Malfoy?" Harry's voice broke into his thoughts.

"You know," Draco leaned against Dumbledore's desk, "my first mission as a Death Eater was to kill Dumbledore."

He didn't know why he said that, especially to Dumbledore's pet Harry Potter. Harry stared at him, gaping. With that reaction, Draco knew that Hermione had definitely kept it a secret. And with that, he could feel some semblance of warmth rise within him. He was now more than sure that her 'betrayal' before was nothing more to ensure that both of them would escape from the depths of Optimisticheskaya safely, than to expose him to her friends. He remembered how he had treated her so coldly upon their return to Hogwarts, and shook his head slightly. The way she had whispered, _"Sorry..."_ with her brown eyes searching his, hoping to tell him what really happened, but he had been too angry and too hurt to reciprocate.

"So..." Harry took a while to recover. "So why didn't you?"

Draco laughed mirthlessly. "Do you think I was capable enough?"

"No, it's not that." Harry eyed him suspiciously. "That might have been a reason in the past, but I saw you – I saw you when he..." Harry chewed his lip. "When he died. When Bellatrix Lestrange killed him. I saw your face. You didn't want to kill him."

_Are my emotions all written out there for everyone to see?_ Draco thought, bitterly. _No wonder I was never meant to be a Death Eater. First it was Hermione, then it's Potter..._

A wintry image popped up in his mind. Words that echoed to him every night when he was lying awake, and even seeped into his dreams.

_"I'm human!" retorted Hermione. "So I can tell that even though you may be mean, you may be insulting, rude, spiteful, arrogant, the thing is – you're not evil! How can someone who is not inherently evil just obey an evil being's orders, who happens to be his enemy for killing his father, and not find out what were the true circumstances in which your father was killed?"_

"That killing that you mentioned is probably a mission, and you'll probably do it just to get under the nose of Voldemort so that you can find out everything about your father's death and avenge him. So now I'm telling you, don't go down the path that led to your father's death. And don't become the monster who killed your father. There are other ways to do it, if only you'd let down your pride and let others help you make decisions you shouldn't be making yourself."

Don't become the monster who killed your father.

"So?" Harry repeated, patiently.

"I'm not the Dark Lord..." Draco drew a sharp breath. "I'm not _Voldemort_."

The Dark Mark sent a searing pain through his arm, but Draco Malfoy gritted his teeth.

Harry tried to conceal his surprise at Draco finally using Voldemort's name, but failed. "Is that why after all this while, you never harmed Hermione? Even after she betrayed you?"

"If she really betrayed me, she would have told you about Dumbledore."

Harry's eyes widened. "She knew?"

Draco nodded, then he picked up the book on the desk gently. "But don't chastise her."

"Ron and I are her best friends," retorted Harry, hotly.

"I love her."

There was a startled silence.

Draco hadn't even planned to say that. He hadn't even thought about saying it out loud. And he was saying it in front of Harry Potter! What the... what had he been thinking? Flushing a deep angry crimson, he turned away, fingers curling around the heavy book in his grip.

"You..." Harry ran his hand through his hair, a gesture of discomfort.

_Yes, I love her._ The realisation coursed through his veins; it was like the hot, tingling feeling of Firewhiskey that made him delirious and heated all at the same time, along with a slight, sweet aching – the accompanying sensations when her lips were moving in time with his, and when he outlined her shape with his hands. The hundreds of expressions and thousands of words that were embodied in those warm, brown eyes of hers... they were the soothing balm to his raw, bleeding wounds that had been torn apart time and again by the murderer – the murderer he nearly turned into, if not for her. And he had known it a long time ago, that he couldn't move on without her, when the look of terror was etched on her face as he lost his hold on her delicate hand, and she slipped off the cliff towards the dark abyss, with him falling headlong after her... despite the overwhelming fear of death and fear of failing to avenge his father, there was a small niggling fear that she would die, and he couldn't let it happen.

"How can I trust you?" Harry did not sound suspicious now, although it was clear that he could not really reconcile the fact that his nemesis at school was in love with his best friend.

Draco fingered the cover of the book, upon the copper letters of the title. "Not everything's a fairytale, Potter, that I can assure you."

Harry's eyes narrowed. But Draco continued. "I can't promise you anything, not when this war is still on. Not when that murderer still lives out there. Not when all our lives are still hanging by threads that he could easily snip off with a wield of his wand. But I can tell you that I will do anything to protect her for now. Anything."

It would almost be a weak, cliched assurance if not for the fact that Draco's eyes were shining unusually brightly, ironically along with a very hard expression. Privately, Harry thought that Draco had matured so much ever since his father's death, and even more so once he had gotten close to Hermione. Gone were the pathetic smirks and rude haughtiness of the young Malfoy heir. Before him now stood a more resilient, determined, even defiant Draco Malfoy, with a mind and tenacity well beyond the age of a sixteen-year-old.

"Okay," was all Harry could manage, as he collected the Sorting Hat. "Let's go."

-.-.-.-.-.-

Hermione placed a finger on the copper lettering, and slowly moved it across to feel the accentuation.

_Tales of Beedle the Bard._

She had read all the stories already, but they had given her no clue to what Dumbledore would have wanted her to gain out of them. What had a hopping pot, a cackling tree stump, or three fictional brothers, got to do with the Horcrux search? Harry had said they were a collection of wizarding fairytales, and that it was clearly meant for her only. He had a strange look in his eyes as he talked to her, but when Hermione asked, he said he really knew nothing about the book.

She thought of Professor Dumbledore winking at her, and sighed.

_What do you mean?_

She leaned back in the armchair, and almost immediately, another memory came back to her. But it was not of Dumbledore. It was her and Draco Malfoy, in the exact same seats of the library just a few weeks back. She stared at the armchair in front of her. The library lights were still on, so the chair looked rather unfamiliar in the yellow light. She tried to imagine him in the seat, but failed.

"Lights out!" Madam Pince's stern voice rang through the library, and Hermione dropped the book back into her bag. _For once I'm obeying her_, she thought wryly, _in a really, really long while_. She walked out of the library, and had just turned a corner when she found Draco Malfoy walking towards her.

"Oh!" She gasped, softly, unconsciously taking a step back.

Draco raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Hermione took a hesitant glance at him, and noticed that his grey eyes were stony once again, though not overly harsh.

"Draco...?"

He shook his head. She wished she could pull him close to her and feel his warmth radiate, enveloping her. But she knew there wasn't a single bit of warmth in him right now.

"Goodnight," was all he said, and she thought she saw his mouth twitch a little, before he walked past her and round the corner. She stared after his tall figure, noticing that instead of the arrogant sauntering, it could only trudge along – wearily, contemplatively.

-

"I've got Lupin's message," said Harry, the next morning. However, the crestfallen look on his face said everything. The rest had gathered around him at the corner of the common-room, away from the rest of the Gryffindors who were chattering away.

Ginny took the letter from him and scanned through quickly. "That's helpful!" She threw it down, angrily. "All these grown-ups still think we're little kids, don't they!"

"I'm guessing he refuses to tell you?" Hermione cocked her head to the side.

Harry nodded, dejected. "He says he will bring me there one day, but it's just too dangerous now for me to travel there. I guess he has a point, but it's not helping."

"Then what are we going to do?" Corrinne demanded. "Sit around and wait for Voldemort to ring our doorbell?"

"Oh yeah, with room service," remarked Harry, dryly. Hermione cracked a little smile, but the others merely looked perplexed.

"I could ask my brothers," said Ron. "They know all the secret escape routes in Hogwarts."

"I think they've told Harry everything," Ginny muttered.

"No, wait," said Harry, sitting up straight. "There might still be someone who will let us go."

"Who? McGonagall?" Corrinne scoffed. "Maybe Filch?"

"Dumbledore's brother. He promised that if I needed any help, he would be on hand to help."

"The one whom you met at the inn?" asked Neville, surprised. "But you can't even go out of Hogwarts to see him now, Professor McGonagall won't let us!"

Harry gave a devilish smirk, very _unlike_ him. "When I came back with Dumbledore, we came back through a secret passageway in his office. It leads directly to the inn. Since McGonagall lets me have free entrance to Dumbledore's office for the time being..."

So there it was, the little parade of them sneaking along the corridors that night, along with Luna, and Draco, after Hermione found him after lessons (even though, none of them were in the mood for studies, including Hermione herself). Again, he had been unresponsive, only responding with a curt nod, and disappearing. Hermione bit her lip, but decided against saying anything else. None of the others were keen on having Draco along, particularly Ron, but Harry had insisted, so there was nothing more to argue about.

It was not yet bedtime, but no students were really willing to walk past Dumbledore's office now that it was vacant (and had of course become haunted in no time). It was decided that Harry, Ron and Hermione would look less suspicious visiting the office, since they were most likely to do so out of reverence for the wizard and with permission from Professor McGonagall. Draco performed the Disillusionment Charm on the rest of them. Harry had brought along the Sorting Hat, while Draco the basilisk fang which many a Horcrux had been destroyed with.

Once inside the office, Harry quickly located the entrance of the tunnel by turning a secret knob in one of Dumbledore's drawers. He explained to the rest that Dumbledore had told him about the knob when they were in the tunnel, and Hermione secretly wondered if Dumbledore had every contingency planned for them. If that was the case... she felt the little pouch by her side, where she had magically shrunk the book of fairytales into, in hope that she would find an answer to his clues soon.

A panel in the floor slid open, and they quickly hurried down it. It was a long way, and Hermione could feel her breath coming out in stunted gasps along the way. Fortunately, the end was in sight, and Harry pushed open the panel above with all his might.

"Harry?" Aberforth's amazed voice boomed amidst clinking glasses. "W-what..." He stared in confusion as the rest of the students clambered out from the hole in the floor behind the bar counter along with Harry. The few customers that were in the bar turned to stare at all the underaged newcomers, and looked skeptical. Seconds later, they were back to clinking glasses and speaking in deep, throaty voices. When they were all out, including Draco, Aberforth narrowed his eyes at the blonde Slytherin, who glared back at him.

"What's he doing here?" Aberforth jabbed his finger towards Draco, who was definitely not pleased at being targeted once again. But one thing was for sure; the long, flowing mane ran in the family. Even though Aberforth's was a rough mixture of brown and grey, he had the same air of confidence as his brother Albus. There was, however, an added sense of ruggedness, and an air of distrust that Draco did not appreciate much.

"Aberforth... you know about your brother, don't you?" Harry asked, tentatively.

Aberforth's eyes narrowed; they certainly did not twinkle like Albus'. Instead, they were fierce and suspicious. He let out a low grunt, before he shuffled past them and made an announcement to his few customers that he was closing early. There were some disgruntled mutters, but once that was cleared up, Aberforth came back to find the children surrounding his bar counter. He shuffled back behind the counter and glared at Harry. "And what does that have to do with the fact that you have brought the nephew of my brother's killer before me? Or shall I say," he turned a furious gaze onto Draco, whose eyes were blazing by now, "a _colleague_ serving the same filthy master?"

"Pleasant words you have there," spat Draco, and Hermione had to move forward to tug at his sleeve. He shook it off angrily, and Hermione rolled her eyes from behind.

"I'm sure your brother has told you of the Horcruxes," Harry said, struggling to keep his voice calm and steady. Aberforth raised his eyebrows. "They are the only way to get rid of Voldemort. And we know where one of them is. We _have_ to go there to destroy it."

"And where might that be?"

"Godric's Hollow."

There was a sharp intake of breath from Aberforth. He looked positively furious. "No! I'm not going to help you all do this!"

"Why not?" burst out Corrinne, flushed red with anger.

"It's too dangerous!"

"That's bloody obvious." Draco scowled. "You think _Voldemort_ would put his Horcruxes right at the gate of Hogwarts?"

The mention of Voldemort's name from Draco was decidedly unnerving. Aberforth hesitated for a while, but then he shook his head again. "No, I'm not going to lead you all to your deaths. This is too risky! You should have consulted Minerva, or..."

"There's a reason why we came to look for you!" Corrinne glared at him. "If we could approach them and get a perfect sendoff, I don't suppose we would need to come beg you. Come on, Harry, let's just go back, this is ridiculous!"

"Look." Harry's face was grim, staring fixedly at Aberforth. "Apart from your brother, Bellatrix Lestrange killed my godfather Sirius too. She made Neville's parents insane." Neville looked away. "She is now dead. But at the same time, she was influenced by the puppet master Voldemort. He's the one responsible for all our loved ones' deaths. I don't want to lose anybody I love to him anymore. The war ends when we destroy him. There's no way anybody can do anything to him, otherwise. Please!"

_Please..._ Draco heard his father's pleas once more, and he clenched his fists. "Maybe you don't think much about avenging your brother." He sneered at Aberforth, who was now staring at the window. "But I lost both my parents to that monster, and I'm not letting him get away. How about you? Are you just going to watch him get away like that? Are you?"

Aberforth stared outside the window. There was complete darkness outside; all he could see was his reflection. A reflection that reminded him of his wise brother. A brother whom he had hated and loved dearly; hated for causing the death of their beloved sister Ariana due to a spell experiment gone awry, and loved because – just because they were brothers who had no one to turn to all these years but themselves. Now, even he was gone. Gone, and his fight with the most evil wizard of all time still hanging in mid-air. He felt a lump in his throat, and swallowed hard. He turned back slowly to survey the strange little crowd before him. Harry's eyes, pleading with him. Ginny's, a hard look in hers. Ron's, suspicious. Luna's, dreamy but yet oddly piercing. Corrinne's, a brilliantly raging red. Neville's, a sorrowful brown. Hermione's, hopeful. Last but not least, Draco's, alit with burning fury.

"No," he said, finally. "No, I'm not going to let him get away like that."


	38. Godric's Hollow

**Disclaimer:** I don't have the honour of owning Harry Potter, although I get to own everybody else's thoughts since Ms Rowling only writes Harry's.

**A/N:** This chapter may be shorter than the previous few, but it's a pretty emotion-laden one, though I can't help it given the situation they are in, and whatever that had happened. Still, I hope you like it! Enjoy! (:

* * *

The dim light in the Hog's Head Inn was not helping their moods. Draco sat at the edge of a rickety bed, staring at the wooden floor. Ron kept throwing him frowns every now and then from the opposite bed, while Harry sat at the foot of the bed, his head hung. Neville was curled up on another bed, but his eyes were wide open, nervously darting from Harry to Draco. Corrinne was unusually exhausted, and was sound asleep. Ginny, Luna and Hermione sat on the last bed by the window in a contemplative manner. Hermione, in particular, was fidgeting with her fingers, something she didn't do very often. She cast a glance at Draco, then looked back down at her fingers again.

A sound of clopping hooves startled all of them out of their thoughts, and the three girls nearest to the window clambered towards it. There were two figures downstairs, barely illuminated by a lamp one of them was holding.

_"The cold's settling in really fast... yer got to be careful goin' all the way back to yer hometown, sir..."_

"I will, Hagrid. Thank you for lending me your Thestrals. They will be great company."

"If I may ask, sir, why so many Thestrals yer needin'?"

"What's going on?" asked Neville, worriedly. Ginny put a finger to her lips.

_"Tribute to my brother. When I go back, the people of my hometown will understand the significance."_

"Ah. Yer sure yer don't want ter bring him back with ye?"

"No, he will be happy staying in the school. Oh wait a minute... one, two, three, four... Hagrid, there're only seven Thestrals. I wanted eight."

"Aye, I mus'be countin' wrong. I'm sorry. Do yer need me ter..."

"It's okay, I understand you were very loyal to my brother, I know it must have shaken you a lot. There will come a time that the evil in the world will be vanquished, mark my words."

"I hope so, sir. Hope so." And there was a loud blowing of the nose. Finally, there was silence for a while.

Quickly, Ginny motioned to the rest to head downstairs, shaking Corrinne awake along the way.

"Aberforth?" Harry called out tentatively, as all of them came down the stairs quickly.

The door of the inn swung open, and the bells above the doorway gave a cacophonous ring. Aberforth trudged in, and slammed the door behind such that the whole inn seemed to shake.

Draco narrowed his eyes, then looked coldly at Aberforth. "So what's this brilliant plan of yours?"

"Don't mock me, young Malfoy." Aberforth returned the glare. "I'm not doing this as a favour to you."

"I know, it's Potter you care about." Draco threw up his hands. "Even when he's lost his parents, he's got a whole army of people waiting to..."

"Don't be a jerk, Malfoy!" Ginny nearly shouted. "You don't have to take it out on everyone just because your life's been screwed up!"

"Thanks for reminding me, Weaselette!" Draco snarled, his hand slamming against the bar counter.

Hermione pushed her way past Luna and Neville to stand in front of Draco, hands on her hips. "Stop it, Draco Malfoy."

Draco knew he couldn't retort much to Hermione, so he just snarled again and turned away angrily. Aberforth watched him for a moment, then turned his attention to Harry.

"Hagrid was here to lend me some Thestrals, which I've told him some story for its use. These Thestrals will be directed for Godric's Hollow. But I must still say this: It's a very dangerous task you are undertaking, and I am still very uncomfortable about letting you all go alone... I was thinking that..."

"No, sir." Hermione stepped up towards him. "Please don't come along." She pressed something hard into his hand, and he stared at the coin. "This is a charmed coin; if we are in danger, we will send you a message so that you can inform the Order."

"It's still too risky! What if..."

"This is my mission." Harry placed a hand on Aberforth's arm. Then he shot a look at the sullen Draco. "And Malfoy's. Please – we are just trying to find out where the Horcrux is. Your brother let Malfoy and Hermione go alone the other time. This time we have more people. Please trust us. We promise to inform you immediately if things are getting out of hand."

"It'll be too late by then!" argued Aberforth, but he knew he couldn't win. Sighing resignedly and in frustration, he led them all out into the cold night before the Thestrals. Luna put up a hand to stroke the mane of the one nearest to hers. All of them were now able to see the Thestrals, after witnessing their Headmaster's death. Draco found himself entranced by the ghostly figures of the Thestral as it turned its head towards him. The agony from his mother's death struck him again, and he grimaced.

"There are only seven..." Ginny announced. "Maybe Harry and I could..."

"Hermione?" Harry's voice broke in. "Why don't you share one with Malfoy?"

Ginny raised her eyebrows in surprise; everyone else was equally startled, including Draco himself. Harry looked a little awkward himself. Ron let out a derisive snort. "Harry, are you blinding insane or are you..."

"I think they need to talk." Harry tried to sound casual. "Yes?"

"Okay," was all Hermione could say. Aberforth helped her up into the nearest Thestral, and Draco swung himself up behind her. He saw Ginny and Harry exchange looks of understanding, while Ron was still peeved. That made him hesitate a little. This position that they were in reminded him of the time when they had to all fly out of the caves on one broom. It wasn't too long ago, yet it seemed like they had come a very long way.

"Draco!" Hermione shook him free of thoughts. "Harry's talking to you."

Draco blinked, then turned towards Harry, who was gesturing to him to go first. He took a deep breath, then slid his arms under Hermione's to reach for the reins which she was already holding onto. He felt her relax against him, while there was a deep snort from Ron disguised as a frantic cough. At the tug of the reins, the Thestral began to kick off, and one by one, the rest followed suit. Aberforth was calling after them to take care, but soon, he was out of earshot. All Draco could think of at the moment were his parents, and undoubtedly, Hermione, for the strawberry perfume in her hair was rather hard to ignore.

"Hey."

He jerked out of his reverie and cocked an eyebrow at Hermione, who was looking back at him. She looked worried.

"Don't be rash, okay?" She seemed to be searching through his eyes for any sign of recklessness.

A smirk formed on Draco's face, but it was tinged with bitterness. "I don't really intend to carry on this mission for long, you know. It's... it's like something's eating at me. I can't wait to get rid of it."

Hermione looked even more worried.

Draco let go of one hand on the rein to wrap his arm around her middle, causing her to gasp lightly. Then he pulled her against him and took a deep breath of the scent; it seemed to calm him. She sat there, frozen, almost holding her breath as he spoke, muffled.

"But I promised I would do anything to protect you. Which means I will have to stay alive."

Hermione's eyes went wide. "You – you promised? To – "

Draco chuckled, and she could feel the soft puffs of laughter against her curls. "Do you think I'd get to promise Weasel anything? He'd hex me if I even mentioned your name."

"So – you promised Harry."

"Can't say it's the proudest thing I've ever done."

Even though it was a chilly night, Hermione felt completely enveloped in warmth at that very instant, like she had just downed a cup of hot, toasty tea. She could scarcely bring herself to look at Draco, feeling the heat flush towards her neck.

"It's... well, I mean... goodness, Draco, do you remember when we were first allocated to patrol together? We were always at the opposite ends of the corridor. And you were always taking away points for no rhyme or reason, like when somebody dropped a pile of books on your toes and you got so..." She was rambling; she couldn't help it.

Another soft puff of laughter. "The beginning of your espionage mission."

Hermione winced. "It's not so much that... it's just that... Draco, you've changed so much. If we go back to first year, perhaps, you were just that wimpy brat who was frightened out of his lights in the Forbidden Forest when we had detention together!"

"Excuse me, did you say wimpy brat?" Draco forgot all his misery and raised his eyebrows.

"You dropped your lantern and ran out with these big, wide eyes!" Hermione demonstrated by widening her eyes at him, then grinned cheekily while Draco looked mortified. "And how about third year, when you were being such a prat about Hagrid, so I decided to give you..."

"Hey, leave the man some pride!" Draco twisted his face into a look of annoyance. Then a mischievous glint came into his eyes as he tugged a little at the reins. Suddenly, the Thestral jerked forward, and they were hurtling downwards. Hermione screamed, but Draco immediately clammed her mouth with his hand. He jerked the reins again, and the Thestral resumed flying at the usual pace and direction.

"Hermione, are you okay?" A distant voice called out. Apparently the Thestrals had been instructed to fly separately so that they would not be too conspicuous.

Hermione brushed away Draco's hand with indignance, then called out, "I'm fine!" before glaring at Draco, who was looking very innocent. "What was that for?"

He pulled her close to him and whispered in her ear. "Wimpy brat."

Hermione scrunched up her face, and he chuckled. At least it was better than when he was so touchy earlier on. "Well if that makes you feel better!"

"Mm..." He let out a sigh.

"Whatever it is, you've changed a lot." Hermione turned serious. "You know, when you picked yourself up after your mother, I was really proud of you. For everything. The caves, meeting Wentervale, fighting against Rookwood... and eventually Bellatrix Lestrange. Just two more, Draco, just two more."

Her words seemed to ignite a fire in him that gave his weary self some strength. "This is what I have to do. For my parents. But – you just came along and fought too," he struggled to find the words to continue, for he didn't like feeling sentimental and showing it, "and – and you didn't tell Potter everything, did you? Like my mission to kill Dumbledore."

She shifted slightly, but he held her more tightly.

"I - " He frowned and chewed at his lips for a while. Finally, he gave up and scowled. "Well yeah, just two more."

Hermione smiled, away from his gaze. She could see Harry in the distance on his Thestral. _Well, I never thought I would see the day that Draco Malfoy would talk to Harry Potter about such things..._

And as Hermione's thoughts ran on, Draco was looking at her intently. In the midst of the warmth that she gave him, he could feel the familiar ache in his heart as he thought of his father's imposing figure – dangerous, cunning, but yet gave everything for his family; his mother's matronly one – stiff, regal, but yet did everything she could do to protect her only son.

_You know, Hermione,_ he thought, _they wouldn't have wanted their son to fall in love with a Muggle-born. No matter how much they loved me. Now there's no one in the family to stop me from being with one. Is that supposed to be a blessing in disguise?_He shook his head slightly, the bitterness flooding in again.

"Draco?" She spoke once again, prompting him to lift his head. "When everything's over, would you like me to attend your mother's funeral with you?"

His mouth twitched upwards as he held her tightly, burying his face in her brown tresses that were flying wildly as they zipped through the night sky.

-.-.-.-.-.-

When the Thestrals began their descent, none of its riders could make out where they were landing. There were faint, dim lights below, but no outlines of any buildings. It was only when the hooves made contact with the ground that Hermione realised that they were surrounded with fog. With a wave of her wand, some of the fog cleared, and amidst dim lights, there was a tall obelisk before them.

Draco slipped down the Thestral, and helped Hermione off it. The rest followed suit. Ron was muttering something about "I thought I heard her scream or something, don't believe that prat..." to Harry, but the latter was not listening as he headed towards the obelisk. Hermione looked around and noticed that they were somewhat in the middle of a village square of some sorts. There were rows of houses along the sides, but they were quiet and unlit, save for one or two dull streetlamps along the sidewalks. It was a lot colder here, and she wrapped her robe around her more tightly.

To her surprise, Harry had fallen to his knees before the obelisk, and his head was bent. Ginny rushed forward, but Hermione could see the faint letterings on the base of the obelisk against the light of Harry's wand.

"IN MEMORY OF JAMES AND LILY POTTER, IN THEIR VALIANT FIGHT AGAINST WIZARDING EVIL."

_Wizarding evil._Draco stepped forward to stare at those words. As he saw Ginny place a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder, he suddenly realised just how much this mission meant to Harry as well. In his mind, he could picture Voldemort casting Killing Curses at two figures who were protecting a baby – or at least, what the story of Harry Potter had gone – a baby who was cursed with a lightning bolt scar to his forehead to remind him of the tragedy of his parents. A physical reminder to exact revenge. Not to mention that everybody in the wizarding world was expecting Harry Potter to be the one to defeat Voldemort. It was insane – the social pressure, yet at the same time, how the flame of revenge must be burning in him!

_"It's my father, it's none of your business,"_ He could remember himself saying. _"And I don't need Saint Potter to cover my back. This is between the Dark Lord and me. If Potter or any one else related to him comes into the fray, it's no longer a personal vengeance. And the more people despise me, the more they hate me, the stronger I am."_

But that wasn't true. It was no longer just about a personal vengeance.

_"WHY IS MY MOTHER CRYING? What the bloody hell did you..."_

"Draco, your father is dead."

His fists clenched.

_"Please..." His father's faint whisper came back to him again, the familiar haunt of his dreams._

"I am Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy."

He could feel tremors running through his body. _"...and I pledge myself to the service of the Dark Lord with the undertaking of my late father's responsibility as your humble servant. I will fulfill my duties to the best of my abilities, and I will serve the Dark Lord with unwavering loyalty, and – a stone cold heart."_

_"Remember your father..."_Wentervale's dying words.

_"Draco, you must go to the Dark Lord, you must tell him that you didn't mean to do all that to him. Tell him you were foolish. You must go back to him, you must carry on for your father!"_His mother's hysterical pleas.

_"One move, Drakey, and mommy's dead."_Bellatrix's purring voice.

_Mother... you can't leave me._

Something warm covered his hand. It was Hermione – she was holding his hand.

_"You must hold on Draco, if you really want to avenge your parents. You must hold on to search for the last two Horcruxes. It's only this way that we can get rid of him."_Hermione. Always Hermione, getting him back on track.

_I love her._

Everything was exploding inside his head, but Hermione's grip tightened. Gradually, the thoughts bombarding him receded, and he saw Harry stand up slowly, helped up by Ginny. Then the bespectacled boy turned to face Draco. There was a very determined look on his face, and Draco knew instantly that Harry had promised his parents the same thing he had promised to do for his own.

"Excuse me." Neville's shaky voice cut through their silence. Everyone turned to see that he had come across a rather perplexed-looking young man, who looked a bit uneasy at their presence. "Do you know where the Potters live?"

"Excuse me?" The man repeated Neville's words, then looked at him with a hint of distaste. "Who are you people? Why are you dressed in this – this... and holding those... is this some kind of a costume parade?"

"A what?" Ron echoed, but Hermione whispered. "This is a Muggle town!"

"The... Potters," Neville faltered, bringing the word into a jumbled mess.

"Oh, the Watters? They've gone to visit their folks back in uhh... wait let me see..."

"No, we meant the _Potters_," said Corrinne, rolling her eyes.

"Never a Potter!" The man shook his head vigorously. "Never a Potter that lived here!"

"Then what's that?" Ginny pointed at the obelisk. But the man just shrugged his shoulders. "War memorial for some folks who once lived here and fought the Civil War. Unnamed folks, bless them!"

"Unnamed?" Corrinne frowned. "That means they can't read those words either."

"I'd better be going," said the man, shooting them suspicious looks before he hurried off.

Shivering, the little group made their way along the streets, peering hard at each house to see if they could identify Harry's old house. They had walked quite a fair bit, and Draco was getting extremely frustrated. But he saw Harry in front looking fervently at each house and reckoned that if Potter was not going to give up, neither would he. Luna had begun humming something that seemed to soothe all of their frazzled nerves.

However, even Harry soon found himself getting disillusioned. They had almost made it to the end of the streets, with a forest right at the end signalling a no-go. An elderly man had come out of his house to yell them off his gate, and two young ladies had hurried off when Ginny tried to approach them.

"If my parents did live here, none of them would know, would they!" Harry was exasperated. "Everything all magicked, including that monument! Maybe it's all destroyed!" He ended off on a bitter note.

"Harry, if it was all destroyed, Aberforth wouldn't have bothered asking his brother to take you here," said Hermione, gently.

"Hey, look at that!" Ron pointed at a house right at the end of the street. "It looks like somebody threw a Blast Bomb there."

Harry made his way across slowly. It was a crooked little house with a top storey had been blackened and a little caved in. The lawn was now overgrown with weeds, and everywhere was covered with grime and cobweb.

"Excuse me..." Neville was trying his luck again, this time with a harrowed-looking woman. "Did somebody use to live there?"

"Live where?" The woman raised an eyebrow. "Young man, I thought you'd have better eyesight than I would! Oh right, you people are just visitors, aren't you? Well, it may just be an empty piece of state land, but you could get imprisoned for trespassing! Has been so for many, many years!" And she tutted, and left.

Harry turned and stared at the house, taking in its every feature. Something came into his throat.

-.-.-.-.-.-

"Nice house," commented Ron, casually, as they walked around what must have been the living room.

Everything was in decay, but the mantelpiece above the fireplace still stood upright, and there were four thin frames with cracked glass. Harry picked one of them up and tilted them towards his lit wand. He could barely make out faint figures moving around. His parents – moving around. He put it down and picked another up. This time there were three figures. His parents – and him. In his mother's arms.

Tears were running down Harry's cheeks, but he didn't seem to notice as he picked up another frame. Draco was surveying the door, then the staircase, imagining what had happened that night. He turned and saw Harry, a dark look overcoming his face. He marched forward and took the frame out of Harry's hands. Harry spun and looked fiercely through tears at him, but Draco was unfazed.

"We're here to get him," hissed Draco. "If you get emotional, he'd sense it." He pointed at Harry's scar. "I'm sure there's some kind of connection through that thing, I've heard! So get a grip!"

Harry brushed off Draco's hand rather brusquely, and with his other hand wrenched his spectacles off and wiped his eyes roughly, turning away from Draco. The blond boy stood there, no emotions written on his face at that moment. Yet deep inside, watching Harry stumble through the house and picking up random items that reminded him of his family, he could not help feeling a surge of emotions ball up within him. His gaze flickered back to the mantelpiece, and even in the dimness, he could make out the smiles on the Potters' faces. He felt wretched. He hadn't remembered a time when his family took a picture and all three were looking happy. Yes, even baby Potter felt like he was radiating happiness. It was obscene, the way it made him hurt.

But he wasn't hurting so much because they smiled and his never did. The Malfoy family never really preached happiness. But at least he was contented. It had been a grim childhood for him, for his father's high expectations and strict teachings had not been the happiest of lifestyles. His mother's tendency to defer to his father was not helpful either. Still, he knew it was their way of caring for him, because they wanted the best for him. And they had seen the best as allegiance to one of the most powerful wizards in the world.

Just that the route chosen was not the best after all.

"You know," Harry traced the staircase railing with his hand, "I feel as if I can imagine them here, alive."

Draco had to swallow the bitterness in his throat. Hermione had gone forward to place a hand on Harry's shoulder, and Ron the other.

"And then in that instant, just gone."

_Personal vengeance._

It's not just mine.

Draco looked around and saw Corrinne Whitemayer's eyes flash. That bloody red was sickeningly frightening.

_"Your family... they're all killers! All of them!"_

With every word she had said, every word she had hurt him with – she had been hurt, too. His father had condemned her parents to insanity. He knew. But he had been a puppet.

He saw Neville Longbottom's expression – surprisingly determined. Also another one whose parents had been tortured, by his insane aunt. Another puppet.

_It's everyone's personal hunt for revenge._

Harry's eyes met his. "Dumbledore once said – the power I had over Voldemort – is love."

_Love?_

He sighed. "I always thought that was so pathetic. What does love have against Voldemort? But now I know – at least it keeps me going. The fact that my mother died to give me life."

Draco was about to contemplate the profoundness of those words, when Harry suddenly jerked upright, and everybody was startled.

"What?" Ginny demanded, looking flustered.

"Listen!" Harry urged. "Hear that sound?" But no one could hear anything.

"Mate," began Ron, but Harry waved at him madly to keep quiet. Straining hard, his eyes widened.

"Harry..." Hermione's grip on his shoulder tightened.

At that moment, Draco thought he could hear a faint hissing sound. He went rigid.

Harry turned to Hermione. "He's nearby... it's Nagini."


	39. Unexpected Finds

**Disclaimer:** The whole Horcrux idea, and the various items that were used as Horcruxes, are the ingenuity of Ms Rowling; I only take credit for the expansion of characterisation and my limited vocabulary ;)

**A/N: **This chapter is full of action, full of emotions, full of tension - doesn't that sound exciting? Please let me know if the action was too fast-paced; I originally didn't intend to end the chapter this way, but it proved too long for me to end it otherwise. I hope this doesn't make the next chapter too short :p In the meantime, hope you enjoy this one (:

* * *

Harry made his way out of his parents' home and eyed the house next door to his left suspiciously. It was also overgrown with weeds, and dark green creepers had slithered over the walls and roof in a messy fashion. The hissing sound was getting more fervent, and he rubbed his ear ruefully.

_I can see youuu... come to me... Harry Potter..._

Harry flinched, then immediately leapt over the low wall to the other side. The rest had come out of the house, and were staring at him dubiously. But Ron strained and eventually heard the hissing sound, so he did not hesitate much longer to swing himself over the wall, followed by Ginny. Hermione looked doubtful, but followed suit, and Draco as well, though there was a huge wave of uneasiness that had washed over him. Once Neville, Corrinne and Luna were over, Harry marched up to the door to knock hard.

Silence.

Harry's hand rested on the doorknob.

"Harry, I don't think..." Hermione began.

He turned the knob.

The door creaked painfully. Harry sidled up against the door as he pushed it open, wand ready at hand. Everybody pulled out their wands as well.

_Come to me..._

"Who's there?" A weak, wheezy voice croaked.

Harry raised an eyebrow. Then he pushed harder, shining his wand towards the occupant of the house. In the middle of what appeared to be a living room – or rather, it was just an area cluttered with objects of all kinds, added with a musty smell and a dim light bulb above – there was a gaunt old woman sitting on a rocking chair. Wisps of grey hair hung over her forehead, and her small eyes stared glassily at Harry.

"Who's there?" she repeated, wheezing a little. The rocking chair creaked slightly, but she did not seem to make any visible movement. Harry motioned for the rest to come in, and slowly, they squeezed through the small door.

"Excuse me," Harry began. "You are..."

"Bathilda Bagshot!" Hermione suddenly cut in, her eyes wide with surprise.

Harry spun around, equally surprised. "You – you know her?"

The woman did not have any facial expressions to accompany the soft cackle that came after. "You are smart, my child."

"Err...who?" Ginny stared skeptically at the woman.

Hermione was getting a little excited. "She wrote _A History of Magic_! She's the author of our textbook!"

Draco was trying his best not to look amused and disgusted at the same time.

"Blimey, Hermione, only you would be so pleased to see her!" Ron threw her a look of disgust. "That book was..." He caught Hermione's eye. "Ravishing."

"Delightful," murmured Ginny, and wrinkled her nose as she took in Bathilda Bagshot's appearance. "My, has she taken a bath in the last decade or so?"

"Erm, Miss Bagshot?" Harry ventured. "Do you know..."

"Oh my..." Hermione had caught sight of some old, crumbly books by the side. "Oh, these are all the history books that I love so much! What has become of them? Miss Bagshot, I've read them all, and I thought what you said about the house-elves were so true! Their history was so touching. I always thought that they deserved..." Her eyes were sparkling.

"Very well, my dear, very well," said Bathilda, her wrinkly eyes closing a little. The chair creaked, and her fingers twitched.

"Are you feeling okay?" Hermione asked, tentatively. Bathilda's head tipped forward a little to assent. "What has happened to you so far? After your last book, you said you wanted to do some more research about the dragons, but you never seemed to expound on it. I would really like to know your thesis about..."

"Hermione, you might want to slow down..."

"Miss Bagshot, we're sorry, we didn't mean any disrespect..."

"Miss Bagshot, I wanted to know..."

"I'm really sorry, Ron, but do you know who this is? She's been out of the radar for so long, and we finally get to meet her here! In the flesh!"

"Very well, my dear, very well..."

"So yes, as I was saying..."

As Hermione chattered, the rest were either rolling their eyes or chuckling amusedly. Harry looked a bit nervous, having been interrupted twice, opening his mouth only to shut it again. Draco tried to listen out for the hissing sound, but there was none, only a faint little noise that he couldn't exactly pinpoint to what it was, so he just shook his head. But then, he caught sight of Bathilda's twitching fingers and was oddly attracted to them. They were long and spindly, but instead of ending in nails, they seemed to end in stubs. Blackened stubs.

Draco's eyes narrowed. Burnt? No. Diseased? He was momentarily reminded of the patches on Maldash Wentervale's face, and he cringed. No. Then...

His gaze travelled to the rocking chair handle that her hand was resting on. Traces of black were on it. The carpet on the ground. Eaten by miniature creatures all round, but at the same time, every hole had the faint black trace around. The fireplace. Whatever had been on the mantelpiece. The ceiling. The walls. The floor. Black lines everywhere.

He swung back. The door. Its edges. That same black, rotting mess.

"...I was wondering if you could just show me any of your research on..."

"Miss Bagshot," Harry finally gathered up his courage to firmly put Hermione in place, "did you know my parents lived next door?"

Bathilda's lips quivered. "I am alone."

_The Chosen One... Harry Potter..._

Harry jerked, and spun around. Ron's hand shot out to support him. "Harry, what are you – "

"I hear him," whispered Harry. "I heard him say..."

"Draco, what are you doing?" Hermione's alarmed voice brought everyone's gaze towards Draco, who was pointing his wand at Bathilda Bagshot, with barely concealed rage on his face. "Put that down immediately! She's just..."

"Bathilda Bagshot?" Draco sneered, his eyes fixed on Bathilda. "Hermione, only you would get fooled by your own thirst for knowledge."

Hermione blinked.

"Get out of that body, you filthy worm." Draco's eyes hardened.

The emotionless face of Bathilda suddenly twitched into a little smirk. Then it faltered. The whole body began to sag, and Hermione gasped in horror. Bathilda's head fell to the side, like the string holding it up had been cut.

Then the frightening hissing sound began once again.

Slowly, a glowing image of a snake began to slither out from the back of the rocking chair. It was huge, so huge that it seemed to fill up the height of the room as it stretched and slithered out. The green-grey scales were so ugly and cracked, but it only served to make the serpent deadlier than ever, as if it had an armour that couldn't be penetrated. All of them began backing away towards the door, save for Harry and Draco who stood their ground.

_"Yes, Draco..." The familiar silky voice threaded through the cold air. "You must take on your father's responsibility and perform your duties with perfection. And you are now given one of the most important tasks I could ever entrust to a Death Eater..." And beside the black hooded figure, there was a dark curved figure, rearing its head in approval. Nagini. Draco could feel his hair stand on edge being in such close proximity to the giant serpent. He could feel the malevolence of that creature overpowering everything. Draco lowered his head in deference, but he could feel his heart skip a beat listening to the seductive hissing of the snake._

Hssss... hsssssss...

"Shut up!" Harry gritted his teeth.

"What did he say!" demanded Draco.

"He called you a traitor! And he's been calling after me too!" Harry began to launch into a series of fiery hissing, spitting noises that startled everyone; only he knew that he was demanding what Nagini was trying to do.

_Shee... has been dead for long..._ Nagini swung its gigantic head towards the rotting body of Bathilda. It was still making its way slowly out of her; Harry thought it might consume the entire house in a flash with its size. _It is now your turn to DIE!_It uttered the last word with such a ferocious hiss that made all their bones rattle. Draco could feel as if all the evilness radiated from this one creature alone. If anything personified Voldemort perfectly, it would be this giant serpent.

Suddenly, Nagini gave a toss of its head. Harry could not react in time, and with a yell, he was sent flying into the wall. Ginny screamed, Ron roared in anger, and Hermione pulled out her own wand to cast a spell. But this time, Draco was also knocked off, and he winced as his head made contact with the wall with a sickening thud. Nagini bared its cruelly sharp fangs viciously, and its menacing stare was chilling. With another hiss, it opened its mouth wide towards Hermione, who was for some reason or another, immobilised, terrified.

"Hermione, MOVE! _STUPEFY_!" Draco threw the spell over, but Nagini was surprisingly agile for its size; it whirled its head away and hissed at Draco.

_Hssss... hssss..._

"What is he saying?" screamed Draco.

"He said you'll be the first to die, for you're a traitor!" yelled Harry. "_IMPEDI_– AARGGHHH!" Nagini had smashed the house through with a toss of its head, causing all of them to duck for cover. Ginny wielded her wand, but a table came smashing towards her; Ron had to leap forward to push it away. He howled, and Ginny's eyes flashed with anger at seeing her brother hurt, along with Harry, who was scrambling up. "LUNA, NEVILLE, CORRINNE, GET – "

"Oh no, we don't!" Corrinne leapt up and swung her wand over her head, but Nagini was faster.

"NOOOO!" Neville cried, as Corrinne was whipped hard in the middle, and sent flying towards the wall. She slammed hard against it, and fell in a crumpled heap. "NOOOO!"

As Neville ran over, Draco raised his wand again. But Nagini's tail slapped at him without warning, slamming him backwards. His wand fell away from him; with another swipe, the tail had sent his wand flying.

"You damned creature, you..." Draco was beyond furious, letting loose a string of profanities. Harry's wand was slapped out of his reach as well, and he was looking no less wild than Draco. Nagini bared its fangs towards Draco once again, but Hermione threw a spell that made the snake whirl away quickly. However, every time somebody attempted to hex the snake, it would be fast enough to whip at their heads to force them to duck and lose concentration. Even though Luna finally got a hex into its side, it just served to anger the snake further, and it went a little wild, smashing its head through the ceiling and bringing objects from the second floor tumbling down. Ron had to shield Ginny, while Draco scrambled over to Hermione to prevent her from getting concussed by a huge rotting armchair that had crashed down.

Neville, with one hand holding his wand and cradling Corrinne's head, whispering urgently to her to wake up, noticed that there was something at his feet that was glittering. The Sorting Hat! Harry had let go of it inadvertently after being whacked by Nagini. The serpent's tail came diving towards him, but a spell from Hermione's wand had smacked it aside. But no, wait, the Hat wasn't glittering, it was...

"Neville, look out!"

The large green tail was flying towards him. Neville's eyes widened in horror. His free hand touched against something hard and instinctively grabbed it. Then he realised he had grabbed a handle.

A glittering handle of a sword.

Without thinking, he let Corrinne slip off his lap, as he pulled out the sword from the Sorting Hat. The snake's tail pulled back as Ginny threw a spell over, and Harry was blindly searching for his wand and avoiding getting smashed into pieces by the huge head that was looming over him.

"Over here, you bastard, you don't go fighting unarmed people!" Draco roared and threw a spell over that made Nagini sway unstably. The enraged snake hissed more ferociously than ever and sent more things crashing down with a swing of its enormous head. Ron howled as something cut his arm, prompting Ginny to launch another hex. It was insane; the house would completely collapse on them any moment, and it must have been the magic preventing any of the townspeople from realising that there was such a huge commotion going on.

Seeing that Nagini was distracted, Harry picked up a lamp by the side and flung it towards Nagini. It crashed against the gigantic head, and the snake reared up in pain and anger. Its sickly yellow eyes turned towards Harry, and it bared the dripping fangs once again.

Then it struck! But Harry had dodged aside.

"COWARD!" Draco roared once again, and Nagini swung over. Draco had pulled out the basilisk fang from his pouch and stabbed it hard at Nagini. But the fang failed to penetrate the scaly armour. The snake hissed in triumph. "POTTER, WHERE IS THAT BLOODY HAT? YOU SAID IT WOULD HELP!"

"I DON'T KNOW!" yelled Harry, flustered. "I LOST IT!"

"YOU WHAT?"

"I LOST IT!"

"BLOODY HELL, POTTER, YOU –"

"DRACO!" Hermione's scream jolted him. Draco found himself staring straight at the gleaming yellow eyes, triumphant and deadly. The huge mouth opened, dripping with sticky fluid, and Draco could almost see past the throat. "What the – "

"NOO!" Hermione brandished her wand once again.

"YAAAAHHHHH!" A wild voice stunned all of them, including the giant serpent, whose fangs were just metres away from clamping down on Draco's leg. Nagini's eyes were distracted – and then it widened. Pupils dilated into slits. The hiss escaped its hideous mouth in a screech. Its breath steamed Draco, and he could hardly see.

"HERMIONE!" Draco yelled.

"No..." Her voice was oddly calm. "No, Draco."

Before Draco could react in bewilderment, the frozen wide mouth of the serpent suddenly fell away from sight – the huge creature toppled over, its forked tongue slapping up and down and – still.

Draco was breathing in short gasps, staring at the lifeless body of the snake. Then he slowly shifted his gaze to the side. There was a dishevelled Neville Longbottom, eyes wild and frightened and determined all at the same time, and his hands wrapped around the handle of a sword – half-plunged into the ugly, scaly skin of Nagini. Silver liquid was oozing out from the wound, viscous and shiny.

"Neville." Hermione's voice floated from behind Draco. "Pull out that sword. Now."

Neville slowly turned to face Hermione, his face white. But he obeyed. With a deep gulp, he yanked the sword out, only to cause a loud bang! All of them instinctively brought their hands up to shield their faces from a huge light source overwhelming them. Then it receded almost as instantly as it had burst out.

The body of Nagini still lay there, but the silver liquid had stopped oozing out.

Everyone held their breath, their gaze not leaving the enormous creature.

"So... it was a Horcrux after all..." Harry stared at the snake, then he turned to Neville. "Neville... that was, that was incredibly brave of you..."

But that seemed to remind Neville of something else. Suddenly, he dropped the sword in a clatter and spun around wildly towards Corrinne, gathering her up and shaking her. "Corrinne! Wake up! Wake up!"

Luna calmly got up and walked towards them. Draco sat up, still a little dazed, while Hermione clambered out of the mess from behind him. Harry adjusted his slightly twisted spectacles, and found his wand at a corner. Ron helped Ginny out of the debris. All of them watched as Luna gently placed a hand on Neville's arm. "I will Heal her," she said, to his surprise. "I've learnt some skills from my father, who likes to dabble in Healing from time to time." This prompted Neville to crack a small, urgent smile, and he held onto Corrinne as Luna began to take Corrinne's pulse point.

Just as Luna had finished her words, something seemed to nag at the back of Draco's mind. Or rather, his ears seemed to have picked up something earlier on, and he was hearing it once again. A faint little noise – now it sounded more like a little moan. His head automatically turned towards the source of the noise. There was a walkway by the side, now obscured by rotten and broken furniture. Quickly, he leapt up, and Hermione's gaze followed him.

"Hey," Ron stepped in his way, a gruff expression on his face. He held out Draco's wand, which he had found by the side. "Your – "

Draco snatched at it impatiently, before making his way towards the walkway. Ron stared after him, half-incredulous, half-angry. But it soon melded into curiosity, as Draco walked further. He had found a room. And he pushed the door open.

_"Help..."_

Even the others could hear it now. Hermione bounded over, and so did Harry, Ron and Ginny. The crowd in the walkway ended up pushing Draco further into the room, and he gasped in horror upon looking into the room.

"NO!" He leapt to the middle, where a bound Severus Snape was writhing helplessly on the floor, moaning softly. Quickly, he sought to untie the ropes, forgetting that he had a wand. Hermione quickly brought hers out, and in a few seconds, the ropes were undone. Draco pulled Snape up against him and gripped his collar. The professor was now pale and weak, with beads of perspiration all over his face, plastering his black fringe against his cold white skin. Draco paled considerably.

"What happened... what happened?" he whispered.

Harry stood at the door, gripping the doorknob.

"Nagini..." whispered Snape, his eyes widening, then contracting again in pain. "Bit me..." He pointed at his arm, and when Draco rolled up the robe sleeve, he recoiled in horror to see the bite mark directly on the Dark Mark on Snape's arm. Voldemort had found out Snape was a traitor, and he had sent Nagini to murder him. Draco was beyond outraged, furious, angry... he was completely boiling over, and he was shaking as he held onto Snape.

"All this while?" Draco stared at him in horror.

Snape managed a smirk. "Bella... Bellatrix gave me away to _him_... and then he questioned me... tortured me... found nothing from me... he was so furious. But I heard what you've done... you are brave, Draco. You must carry on..."

_"So you clearly know what this means?" Draco held up the piece of parchment, gripping it tightly in his fist. "Well, the Vow wasn't explicitly about making sure I was okay. It was to help me. If I couldn't do it, then you could. And I'm not going to be able to figure out what this is about, if no other Death Eater tells me."_

Snape closed his eyes, and breathed hard.

"Your first mission is to kill Albus Dumbledore. I have no bloody idea how you're going to settle that yourself when the Dark Lord himself is finding it hard to do it. You're going to get killed yourself, Draco."

"I'm so excited," Draco's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Tell me something I don't already know, Professor."

"That's your life you're talking about!"

"No..." Draco looked at his dying professor with grief. "No... you can't... LOVEGOOD! COME OVER!"

"It's no use, Draco!" Snape hacked terribly, and Draco looked even more of a wreck. "I... you must stay strong... you will win, you will defeat him! He..." He coughed again, and blood trickled out of his mouth. Then his gaze fixed on someone else. "Come here... quick..."

Harry stood rooted, but Ron nudged him, so he went forward tentatively. As he knelt beside Snape, the professor who had a deep-seated prejudice against him, who had mocked him countless of times, he felt a sudden pang of guilt and despair watching Snape's life slip away.

Snape grabbed Draco's wand from him and with a huge amount of effort, pointed it towards his head to draw out a long silver thread from it. His other hand grappled at his robes, and Draco quickly helped him find what he wanted – a corked test tube. Draco flipped the cork open, and Snape let the glowing thread settle into the tube. Harry took it and corked it, staring at it in bewilderment.

"My memories..." whispered Snape, wincing. "Some... please watch it..." And then he went into a paroxysm of some sort, startling everyone. Draco gasped and grabbed his collar harder, but within seconds, Severus Snape lay limp in Draco's arms, eyes grimly shut.

_"You're not my guardian. You're only supposed to interfere when I need you to. So don't try messing with my affairs, if you don't want to help!"_

Looking at the still body of Severus Snape, Draco wished he could take those words back.

Tears were running down Hermione and Ginny's cheeks as they held onto each other; Ron looked away, his face twisted with pain. Harry closed his eyes, eventually opening them to see Draco place Snape down on the floor gently, his tortured expression terribly heartbreaking. Harry turned to stare at Snape, a million questions shrouding him. _Who was he?_Spy for the Order? Spy for Voldemort? Double, triple agent? His father's enemy, his enemy, Dumbledore's ally?

He looked back at Draco, who was looking completely murderous right now, his lips quivering as though he was about to cry. But Draco Malfoy did not cry. Instead, he stood up, his clenched fists shaking, and marched out of the room. Slowly, the others followed him. Harry took one last look at Snape, swallowed hard, and followed suit.

The five of them left Luna, Neville and Corrinne together, while they walked out of the house in silence. There was one more Horcrux, but even though the latest encounter spurred them on to find the last Horcrux to destroy Voldemort once and for all, the image of Snape was still hard to push aside. Hermione moved to Draco's side, and tried to pry his fist open with her fingers. Eventually, he loosened his grip, and threaded his fingers through hers. None of the others commented; they could feel the overpowering grief surrounding Draco Malfoy. It was really a terrible time for him – he had just lost his mother, and now Snape, his mentor, was gone. Even Ron was solemn, and kept shaking his head slightly.

Harry didn't even know what they were looking for now. He tried to clear his thoughts, although he could scarcely forget how Snape looked pleadingly at him – the first time he had ever seen his professor look like that. Then he grimaced. Voldemort. It was all his doing. And he would pay for it. Just that they didn't know what the last Horcrux was. Bellatrix Lestrange had been hanging around Godric's Hollow, but surely she didn't have to take care of a Horcrux like Nagini. It had been well-concealed in the body of Bathilda Bagshot, and it reported directly to Voldemort as well. No, the Horcrux she was guarding had to be something else.

But what?

Hermione was having the same thoughts, although Draco's fierce grip was almost crushing her fingers. She bit her lip and said nothing. Night was falling, and with the fog, it was quite hard to see. Her wand lit the way, clearing the mist, only to meet with a small little church ahead. Beside the church, was a small little graveyard. She felt an involuntary shudder go through her.

To her surprise, Harry had pushed past her to walk quickly ahead.

"Hey, mate." Ron sounded annoyed. "Wait up."

Harry pushed past the gates, the creak a reminder of the door of Bathilda Bagshot's house. Hermione sensed a little hesitation in Draco to walk in, but she tugged at him, so he followed anyway. Harry was walking through the graveyard, scanning the tombstones. Eventually he found what he was looking for, and he brushed his fingers against the stone.

The obelisk in the middle of the town square had been a memorial. A monument. But this was the final resting place of James and Lily Potter. Hermione let go of Draco's hand and walked to stand beside Ron and Harry. The double grave was covered with creepers by the side, but surprisingly, the white lilies by the side were blooming beautifully. It made Hermione's heart ache, especially when Harry was gazing so longingly at the graves.

She then saw the look on Draco's face – it was not hard and furious; instead it was pained and tortured. She couldn't bear to see him like that, so she made her way back to him again. Her eyes trailed away to a nearby tombstone, and she stopped short. Stared hard.

"Hermione?" Ron asked, tentatively.

It rang a bell in her head. _Where have I seen that name before?_

Draco watched Hermione as she stared at the tombstone. Slowly, he turned to look at it.

"HERE LIES IGNOTUS JAMES PEVERELL."

"You know him too?" Ron's voice held a tinge of weary amusement.

"Remember the book Dumbledore gave me? The Tales of Beedle the Bard?"

"Uhh... yes?"

"The last story... the brothers."

Draco raised an eyebrow. Ron just shrugged. "And so?"

"I was so intrigued by the story that I made sure I got some last-minute research in." Hermione had made her way towards the stone to touch the lettering. "They were the Peverell brothers. This was the youngest brother."

"The one who got the Invisibility Cloak?" Light dawned upon Ron. Harry perked up a little upon hearing the mention of his prized item. Hermione cast a guilty look at Harry, hoping that he wouldn't suddenly realise Hermione had his Cloak – and had left it in the Room of Requirement. She had completely forgotten to retrieve it earlier on as well. But Harry didn't seem to realise that. Instead, he looked puzzled.

Ginny noticed his puzzlement, and began to relate the story of the Peverell brothers and how they had met Death while coming across a river they could not cross but had made a magical bridge over. As a reward, the first two brothers got the most powerful wand and the ability to resurrect the dead respectively. Both eventually got killed by their own wishes. The youngest however, did not trust Death and asked for Death to stop following him. He got an Invisibility Cloak to gain anonymity and lived the rest of his life well.

"The three items that Death gave them," Draco suddenly spoke, and his voice was filled with an emotion so thick that it made him sound different, "were known as the Deathly Hallows. A mythical symbol of ultimate power; if somebody had gotten the most powerful wand, the ability to resurrect the dead, and the cloak of invisibility – that person would be invincible."

"But even though Potter has an Invisibility Cloak," Draco eyed Harry, who narrowed his eyes back, "it doesn't mean anything, for they were all merely mythical items. The other items do not exist."

Harry opened his mouth, but Hermione hurriedly cut in.

"For sure? There have been quests."

"Not for sure," said Ron. "But it has been said that the Ministry managed to destroy that all-powerful wand after nicking it from some Knockturn Alley trader. Nobody knows for sure that it was the one, but my dad strongly believes so. There has been no news of the stone at all, assumed to be lost."

Hermione stared at the tombstone, then a few stones down, was where Harry stood. "Look, Ignotus Peverell was your ancestor, Harry... look, just trace these graves down..."

"Wow, this Cloak of yours could really be from Ignotus Peverell himself!" Ron started to sound excited, although Harry frowned. "Where is my..."

Hermione cut in once again before he could think further. "Anyway, this is significant. Harry, the Peverell brothers story symbolises the achievement of ultimate power, even though it eventually corrupted them. And they are your ancestors, or at least Ignotus Peverell was. This symbolism is so great, whether or not the items exist."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Are you trying to tell me something?"

"Well, it's just... a hunch," said Hermione. "But I think his Horcrux might be somewhere here."

Something flared in Draco; he clenched his fists to calm himself down.

"You think?" Harry looked back at his parents' tombstones. His fingers reached out to brush the creepers away from the ends of his mother's name.

"Well, ultimate power... I would think Voldemort might find the Peverell story terribly insulting to his power. I don't know..." Hermione looked at Draco, but he was staring resolutely at the tombstone, his whole body rigid.

Harry brought his finger towards his mother's name, and he began to trace the lettering.

_"Where am I?"_

"Hello, my dear, you are in a nice new place now. It is your home."

"Home? But... where's my mother? My mother?"

The welcoming smile faded. "She's gone, Tom." A sad look remained. "Gone."

Gone.

"Be gone from our lives!" screamed Lily Potter, her face wild with terror, but defiance etched in between those lines as well.

"Lily, Lily... ever so strong, ever so brave, and ever so stubborn."

"Get away from me!"

"No, Lily. I'm not after you. I want your son."

Her eyes were round with horror. "You leave him alone! This has nothing to do with Harry!"

"Oh, but you see, I believe this boy to be a threat to my existence. I cannot have that."

"NOOOO!"

And that stupid wretch had flung herself right in between wand and cradle. Absorbed every speck of the red light that had shot out from the wand. Fell to the ground.

Cries. The baby. Part of the light had hit him. But something in that baby's eyes... those green eyes...

"AHHHH!"

Harry was flung backwards, so fast that none of them could fathom what had happened till he hit the dirt. He was clutching at his head in agony.

"Harry!"

Ginny flew over to help him up, but Ron, Hermione and Draco stood rooted, as the leaves before the Potters' graves began to stir and swirl. Darkness swept over the entire town, and all that was lit were the tips of their wand. But it was no mistaking the whirlwind of leaves and dust swirling up to the height of a human.

Or what seemed like a human.

Hermione had pulled out her wand. Ron slowly followed, but his arm was shaking.

Draco felt himself shaking too. His arm burnt, like it had been scalded. This was no ordinary person.

Black robes began to appear. Long, spindly fingers that reminded Draco of Bathilda Bagshot, minus the black rotting mess. And that face – it had begun to materialise. There were gasps from all around. Harry's face hardened as he endeavoured to clamber up.

A blazing rage had overtaken Draco as he watched the face –

The face that terrorised him every night in his dreams. The face of a murderer.

Voldemort.


	40. Double Vengeance

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter is the brainchild of Ms Rowling, I bet she has his birth certificate and all. Wouldn't want to contest that.

**A/N:** Thank you so much to my lovely readers and reviewers, I love you people. To Lisa: Cliffhangers are awesome tools to get people to read the next chapter ;) so I hope you're still hanging around! Haha. Anyway to everyone, here's a heads up - there're only 2 more chapters left! That is, if I can write them within the limits I've set for a chapter ;) I can't believe it's ending already! And that last Horcrux is still present! How can that be?

It's a shorter-than-usual chapter, but pretty intense. Read on, and enjoy!

P.S. Anyone who still remembers and likes Animorphs, I've got a new oneshot out, check out the profile page! (:

* * *

"Good evening, everyone." The head of the dark figure bowed a little, as if to begin a show. Hermione instinctively backed into Draco and clutched at his robe sleeve. That didn't help his mounting fury upon meeting with the Dark Lord. He no longer had any reverence for this creature; instead, he only had a deep, burning hatred. Yet there was an overwhelming instinct to lower his head, like all Death Eaters did.

_I'm no longer a Death Eater!_

As if on cue, the mark on his arm burnt like never before. He gritted his teeth.

"Well, well, let me see..."

Draco could feel the deadly gaze penetrate him. "Hello, Draco."

The sound of that voice made him choke; it was so repulsive.

"And my favourite, of course." The voice laughed, chillingly. "Harry Potter."

Draco could see that Harry wasn't feeling very friendly either; his fists were clenched just like Draco's. But unlike the murderous rage that was overtaking Draco, Harry appeared to be a lot calmer.

Ron was the first to brandish his wand. He was terrified, incredibly terrified, but the red was winning over white on his face; he wasn't about to let Voldemort kill his best friend. Hermione pointed her shaking arm straight at Voldemort as well, and Ginny promptly followed, even though one of her hands remained tugging at the edge of Harry's robes.

"Does it hurt?" Voldemort raised his bony fingers to lift his hood away from his face, exposing the dehumanised features surrounded by pale, white skin. His eyes were trained on Draco, piercing, deadly, and worst of all, gloating.

"Shut. Up." Draco grimaced as another wave of pain shot through him.

"Stop it..." Hermione realised what was going on, and quickly stood in front of Draco, whose arm was now too weak to push her back. She glared at Voldemort, her wand never leaving its target. "Stop it!"

"The Mudblood..." Voldemort almost spat, but he paused before smirking. "Why, Draco, I see you've become rather friendly with her. Even with Potter." He eyed Harry with a thin smile. "I never would have thought so highly of your capabilities. If only you were on my side now..."

"Spare us the crap," Draco hissed. "You will die sooner or later!"

"You have yet to destroy my last Horcrux, Draco." Voldemort's voice became a little less delicate. "Although I must say I'm very impressed by your exploits so far. Even though they came at a price..."

Draco was reminded of his mother, and then Snape, and his blood boiled.

"It's here, isn't it?" Harry whispered, eyes narrowing. "It's here somewhere... if not, you wouldn't have appeared. You're here to defend it."

"Yes, yes, you are not a fool, Harry, you should know what had summoned me here..." Voldemort laughed the chilling laugh again, and suddenly light dawned upon Harry. His eyes trailed to his mother's tombstone from where he had been repelled from, and something caught in his throat.

_No... it can't be..._

"No..." he whispered aloud, feeling completely repulsed. "NO!"

"Why yes, Harry, that is my last Horcrux," said Voldemort, sneering . "Now that you have killed my dear Bellatrix, then I suppose I'll have to defend this personally, yes? Apparently, a piece of my soul was reflected off you and into her body, when I attempted to curse you. How – intriguing. So... if you want to kill me, then you'll have to destroy your mother's body. How perfect, isn't it? Go on, I know you hate me to the core, you despise me to the bones. Not just your parents, there was Sirius Black too, wasn't there?" And Harry's eyes flashed with anger and agony. "There will be more if you don't kill me now. But if you can't bring yourself to do it... I'll see if you'll let precious Draco do the dirty work for you..."

"NO!" Harry bellowed, as Draco's head instinctively swung towards him. The Slytherin's eyes were burning with rage and a consuming desire that Harry could tell what it was. "No, Malfoy, don't – you – dare."

"Your mother is already dead!" spat Draco, furiously. "We have to kill him!"

"Draco, it's his mother's body!" Hermione gasped. "You can't just destroy it like that!"

"It's our only chance of getting rid of this murderer!" Draco jabbed a finger at Voldemort, heat blazing through him. "I WANT HIM DEAD!"

"If it was your mother, would you do it?" Harry burst out, raging. "Would you?"

Draco turned his gleaming silver eyes towards Harry. "She'll know what is best."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "It was a mistake bringing you here."

"Harry!" Hermione was torn between the both of them. "Draco, remember what I said? I said don't become him. Don't become that filthy murderer!"

"I'm trying to GET RID of that filthy murderer!" Draco exploded, his eyes glittering with all the hatred and rage within.

"To think I believed you could actually change..." Harry whispered, coldly. "You're a Death Eater through and through!"

"Harry!" screamed Hermione.

"This is getting boring!" Voldemort announced, throwing his hands up exaggeratedly. "If Harry is so reluctant, why don't you just get on with it, Draco? Why, you should be more than willing to do this. Think of your parents... Lucius, that sad, sad fool..."

Draco snarled, his grey eyes turning to steel circles.

_Please... please..._

"You'll have to get past me first." Harry stood between his mother's grave and Draco, his voice low and dangerous.

"And me!" Ron stood beside his best friend, his eyes daring Draco to make a move.

_Please..._ It was Lucius' voice, over and over again. His father.

_Please take care of your mother._ Snape's quiet, but urgent voice. A plea.

_The Dark Lord... I believed him, Draco, I believed him completely!_ His mother's hysterical cries.

"This is stupid!" Hermione was desperate. "He's playing around with all of you! He could easily kill all of you!"

"Rather perceptive, Mudblood, but this is called giving them a choice," Voldemort replied, smirking.

Hermione shot him a look of disbelief and hate.

Ginny didn't have to say a word; she stepped up next to her brother, her eyes equally fiery.

Draco turned to Hermione, his eyes challenging hers.

"Don't you dare make me choose," Hermione whispered, in a low voice. "Don't you do this, Draco Malfoy. I will hate you for it."

"Seems like you've already made your choice," Draco replied, coldly. Hermione felt a stab of pain in her as she retreated slightly, her face contorting into disgust. "You know what he has done to my parents. What he has done to Snape. He even killed your parents!" He swung back to Harry, his wand aiming at him. "I WANT HIM DEAD!" He swung the wand wildly towards Voldemort. "DEAD!"

"You know you can't destroy me like that, Draco." Voldemort put on a bored expression. "If you don't decide in ten seconds, I'll take things into my own hands. So let's start... ten..."

Draco stepped up to wield his wand at Lily's grave. Instinctively, Harry growled and stepped forward too, completely blocking the grave from view.

"Nine..."

Wands outstretched, pointing at one another.

"Eight..."

Draco's cold grey eyes. Harry's defiant green ones.

"Seven..."

"Don't..." Hermione was pleading.

"Six..."

A guttural noise erupted from Draco's throat.

"Five..."

Harry's eyes narrowed.

"Four..."

"_IMPEDI – _"

"_EXPELLI – _"

Suddenly, both Harry and Draco found themselves immobilised for a split second. Then they were knocked backwards into the dirt, hard. Draco hit his head on the ground, and groaned with the sharp pain. Along with the waves of agony that was rolling off his arm, now his head was buzzing. Then he noticed that something was wrong.

"Hermione?" He spun around, then he stared at Harry, who was scrambling upwards to look around, yelling. "Ron? Ginny?"

"You..." Draco realised his mistake, as Voldemort began to laugh once again, the booming, chilling laughter. "You despicable..."

"I have never been known for playing fair," Voldemort mused, his slit-like eyes edging upwards. "Strange that both of you distrust each other more than you distrust me..."

But Harry was not looking at Voldemort. He was staring behind Draco, upwards. Slowly, Draco turned to follow his gaze. Above him, suspended, were the three immobilised figures of Hermione, Ron and Ginny. Eyes wide open, hands outstretched with wands, frozen still. Draco could see that Hermione's eyes were still pleading with him, even in that immobilised state.

_I promised I would do anything to protect you._

His breath billowed out, in gasps.

"You inhumane..." Harry's face was contorted with despair.

"They were really in the way," said Voldemort. "Irrelevant."

Draco wished he was an Advanced Animagus just like Wentervale, so that he could turn into a dragon and devour Voldemort at that very instant.

"So now with the rest out of play, it's really down to the two of you," said Voldemort, as he walked behind Lily's grave. Harry flinched upon seeing his nemesis so close to his mother's body, trying his best to ignore thoughts of a part of Voldemort's spirit being beneath the soil. "You see, I can offer you something, Harry. A way out of not destroying your mother's body. You can do something else for me, and I promise I will remove the Horcrux from her."

"I don't believe you!" Harry stared at him, disgusted. "You're going to make me do something dirty, I know it!"

"That was such a pathetic offer." Draco sneered, his fiery gaze locked on Voldemort. "Remove the Horcrux? Why if you could, you could do it right now and disappear out of sight!"

"And lose my chance to destroy at least one of you?" Voldemort smirked. "No, I don't think so. You see, it works this way. I know he was not going to hurt you. He only wanted to disarm you. Oh, that precious Disarming Charm, Harry, as always. The one that resulted in the Priori Incantatem effect the last time."

His slit-like eyes became even more devilish, more savage, as they turned to Harry. "Draco was going to Stun you. But I can guarantee you he can do a lot more when he's provoked... after all, he was in my academy of Dark Arts." Voldemort laughed, looking back at Draco. "So Harry can choose to let you destroy his mother's body, or he can choose to destroy you instead."

Draco's eyes flickered. "What?"

"Yes, you heard me, Harry Potter." Voldemort pronounced the name almost lovingly, that it was excruciatingly sickening. "Kill Draco Malfoy, or your mother's body."

Draco couldn't believe his ears. Voldemort was a lot more twisted than he had given him credit for. He was throwing in morality, friendship and love, and twisting it all into some morbid knot that had placed Harry and Draco at opposite ends. Yes, they had both been at loggerheads since the first year, and had dug a deeper hole between them when Draco had become a Death Eater and Harry being protected by Albus Dumbledore, the man Draco was supposed to kill. But Hermione – she had changed everything. She had made them see that both were equally determined to rid the world of Voldemort, with the fire of vengeance burning in them like an insane demon. And both of them were just as determined to protect Hermione.

_Hermione will want me to trust you._

Yet here Voldemort was, throwing everything into chaos again, and driving the wedge deeper between them. He was playing at Harry's growing distrust for Draco, and Draco's reckless desire to get rid of him once and for all.

_Potter, don't be foolish..._ And his gaze travelled to Lily Potter's grave. _You have to sacrifice..._

Harry definitely looked hesitant. He had seen what Draco was willing to do earlier on, and since it was a definite no to destroying his mother's body, he would have to stop Draco from doing it. The blond Slytherin was already eyeing the tombstone with a desperate carnal hunger, as if he was ready to obliterate it with his wand. There was no way the both of them could destroy the Horcrux without hurting Lily Potter. The only hope he had of preserving his mother's body was the deal Voldemort had offered. Or was it? What if he did destroy Malfoy? He couldn't trust Voldemort to keep his word. His eyes travelled upwards to his three immobilised friends. Hermione – she wouldn't forgive him.

Would she even be alive to forgive him?

"Potter, this is ridiculous, you – NOOO!"

Suddenly, there was a burst of green light, and Harry just flopped to the ground like a ragdoll. The green light receded into Voldemort's wand. Draco stared in horror at the still body of Harry, his eyes staring lifelessly ahead.

_No, no..._

"Such interesting children..." came the bone-chilling sneer. "He had to take such a long time to consider..."

"But at long last..." Voldemort's voice strengthened and began to echo around the graveyard – dark, sinister and with a tinge of morbid delight. "I have defied the prophecy... I have defied the prophecy!"

Draco could not take his eyes away from Harry. _You can't die... bloody Potter, you can't die NOW!_

Then the wild fire burst out again to consume him.

"What have you done?" Draco screamed, thrusting his wand towards Voldemort, wild terror and rage now throttling his entire body.

Without a word, Voldemort flicked his own wand, and Draco was sent sprawling at the far end of the graveyard.

"Come on, little Draco." He sneered. "Fight me. I want to see if you are really worthy to be one of my minions, or if you are just as useless as Harry Potter with only one trademark spell! You know, I thought I'd never live to see the day a Malfoy, a pureblood, would align himself with the likes of blood traitors and a mudblood, much less my greatest enemy of all. But I will live beyond this day, little Draco, I can assure you."

He was advancing towards Draco, a dark silhouette against the dim surroundings. Night was approaching, and the last of the skylights was disappearing.

Draco scrambled upwards and leapt behind a tombstone just as a deadly green light shot towards where he had doubled over seconds over. Now, the adrenaline rush in him was completely insane.

_Run! Run! Run!_

From behind the next tombstone, he threw a spell. But he could not aim. He was the prey – vulnerable, exposed, helpless. Only able to run._Run!_

"Run some more, Draco!" crowed Voldemort. "Let's see how long this little game of ours can last!"

"You bastard..." Draco rolled over to the next stone, as the previous few stones were blasted to pieces. Voldemort was doing open war on the graves. Draco thought he could almost hear the pitiful wails and moans of souls being roused from their sleep. Or did they even live there, beneath the soil? He knew only one thing – Voldemort's soul was down there. One-seventh of it. But Voldemort didn't care about having to overtly protect it anymore – now, Draco was less than willing to destroy Harry's mother's body after his earlier decision had led to the boy wonder's death, and really – how was he ever going to escape Voldemort?

_Father... Mother... I'll join you all soon... but not without trying to kill that son of a..._

Another blast!

WHAM! A boulder slammed into him, forcing him to roll over to the side, in pain. It was sheer panic, rage and agony, all at once, and it was clouding his vision, his ability to think. All he knew was that death was imminent.

"Draco..." drawled Voldemort. "Where are you?"

He knew. He was coming.

Draco's eyes rolled upwards for a moment, the pain wrecking his body.

He saw the three figures in the sky. Immobilised. Even in the dark, he knew who was Hermione. She had been on the extreme right.

"That's right, Draco. Crawl out. Crawl out like a baby. It's like a rebirth, to die at my hands."

He didn't know he had enough strength to crawl out all the way, and push himself to stand upright, albeit swaying. He could hardly see, but Voldemort must have been standing in front of him. It felt like it, it sounded like it. His right arm was swollen with the impact of the stone boulder, and his left arm was completely numb from the intense jolts issuing from the Dark Mark.

_Personal vengeance._

It's not just mine...

He could remember the expressions on each of his fellow yearmates' faces.

_It's everyone's personal hunt for revenge._

He could remember Corrinne Whitemayer mocking him. _Family of killers... aren't you supposed to be part of them?_

He could reach into his pocket and press the DA coin. Get Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood, and even Corrinne Whitemayer if she was conscious. They would be more than willing to rid the world of this power-crazed monster.

_I was really proud of you._

For what? For being part of a family of killers? No, it was Hermione. It was Hermione telling him, _"Just two more, Draco, just two more."_

Now, there was only one.

No. He couldn't. He couldn't get the rest here. Lucius had condemned Whitemayer's parents to insanity; Bellatrix had done so to Longbottom's. He couldn't wish this on their children. Everybody had a vendetta. But he had to fulfill his first.

_Dumbledore once said..._

It was Potter's voice.

_Dumbledore once said – the power I had over Voldemort – is love._

Love. It was what had drawn him to crawl to where Hermione was and stand in front of her, facing Voldemort. It was what was giving him strength now. He had no scar on his forehead, he had no way of bringing the love he had within him and forcing it on Voldemort. But it was all he had now. His love for her. Maybe, maybe by sheer dumb luck, it would wither him.

And there was that slight hope, when he saw Voldemort stumble a bit while approaching him.

"You underestimated me," whispered Draco, although he wasn't sure if his words were being carried away by the wind that blew past and made him shiver. "Potter. All of us."

"Yes, yes, I underestimated many people." Voldemort stopped walking, and spread his arms wide. "Wentervale, that conniving traitor. Even your father, that fool. He could have become so powerful, working for me, but no, he had to give it all up."

"He gave it up for us," Draco rasped. "His family."

And it was only then that Draco realised how much he loved his father. Regardless of the endless torturous sessions that he had to endure to learn duelling, academics, grooming, Quidditch... the way Lucius seemed to have a cold look on his face all the time while subjecting his son to all these... Draco would never forget the look of pride on Lucius' face when he brought back stellar results, or everytime his father stood up for him.

_The wrong way... they chose the wrong way, the wrong person to entrust the family's future in..._

His mother came to mind, and he could feel wetness in his eyes. But no, he would not cry. He would not cry in front of this heartless murderer. It would make no sense to Voldemort. Did Wentervale feel the same way, when his life was seeping out of him – what he felt towards Voldemort for killing his wife and child? The same kind of helpless – strength? Or Snape, when the truth was revealed that he was working for Dumbledore?

All had died to protect the ones they loved. Snape, too. Even though he hadn't said who, Draco knew it had to be the case. He wouldn't have risked his life that way just for Dumbledore.

_I promised I would do anything to protect you._

Her warm brown eyes. Her bushy brown curls. Her righteous indignation. Her lips.

_No..._ Suddenly the strength in him intensified. It was no longer about drawing strength from Hermione. It was drawing strength from himself._No... I will not let you take another loved one away. I will not let you take Hermione._

The wind was cold, but his body felt like a furnace as he summoned all his strength to raise his wand at Voldemort, who all but chuckled.

"Any last words, Draco?"

It wasn't withering him. Potter's defence against Voldemort was not working for him. But it was blooming within him, Draco Malfoy. Blooming like a fresh, red rose. Brilliant. Bloody.

Draco's lips quivered. _I love you, Hermione._

Then he struck!

But the jet of green light flying towards him was faster.


	41. Love of the Soul

**Disclaimer:** I will own Harry Potter - in an alternate reality whereby I'm the one in a cafe writing stories on a napkin and autographing a bust in a hotel to celebrate its end. Otherwise, Ms Rowling holds claim to the favourite boy wizard and his universe.

**A/N:** SECOND LAST CHAPTER! I should think the last chapter will be quite a long one, so give me some time to write it! I'm sure it'll be worth the wait ;) once again, I can't express enough gratitude to all those who have been supporting this fic thus far by reading and/or reviewing and/or adding me on favs and alerts. I'm really thankful for your support :D it's a short chapter, this one, but I hope you still enjoy it!

* * *

It was quiet. That was what he first noticed. Like he was in a vacuum.

Everything before him was a blur. It was not mist, but rather, as if somebody had put images before him and blended them into dim outlines. He could tell he was still in the graveyard, but yet, nothing seemed real.

"Ginny?" he rasped, reaching out. And stopped short. His arm was covered with a sheath of something translucent. But he felt bare, like there was nothing on him. He stared at the rest of his body. The same loose, flowy material covered him, but he could not feel a thing. "Ron? Hermione? ... Malfoy?"

"Hello, Harry."

He spun around, and took a double take.

It was his father. James Potter. Harry's jaw dropped as he saw his father walk towards him.

"Dad?"

James chuckled. "I've missed you, son."

"I'm dead, right?" He stared at the ghostly outline of his father, which seemed to mirror his strange clothing state. Then he saw the woman beside his father. Lily Potter.

"Are you okay?" He didn't wait for the answer to the previous question. He could see his mother's body intact, perfect. She was smiling, and nodding, and he could feel relief bubbling up within him. She wasn't harmed. Voldemort hadn't done...

Voldemort. Harry started to feel panic pump into his veins. "I can't be dead..." His eyes widened. "I can't be dead, no!"

"Harry," said Lily, gently. "I am so proud of you."

"Mum..." Harry stared at her. "I can't... I can't! I need to fight, I need to kill him! I am the Chosen One!"

"Oh, Harry, you cocky fellow," came a familiar lazy drawl, and Harry spun to the back. The shaggy-haired Sirius Black stumbled out from behind a faint tombstone. "Chosen One? Really? You could have come up with a better title! Like Old Voldy's Jinx. Or the Magnificent..."

"Sirius, stop corrupting my boy," said James, with a twinkle in his eye.

"Too late for that." Sirius winked back.

Harry slumped down onto the cold ground. Funny how he could feel the cold when he was already dead. Weren't dead people cold? But that was the least of his worries. Now that he was dead, he couldn't avenge his parents' deaths. Sirius' death. Voldemort would still live on to terrorise the wizarding world.

Wait – what about Malfoy? Harry's gaze landed on his smiling mother. If Lily's body was intact, it meant that Draco had not carried out the destruction of Voldemort's Horcrux. Would he? Or would Voldemort vanquish him as he did to Harry? He cursed under his breath. This was not supposed to happen!

"Harry, you have such morbid thoughts," said Sirius, before Lily could open her mouth. She glared at him, and he shut up, giving a theatrical bow. Just then, another figure materialised, and Harry found himself gaping once again.

"Cedric Diggory!"

"The same." Cedric smiled warmly. "Hello, Harry, I always thought we would meet again. I mean, you know, in a positive way. Look who else is here!"

The white bearded man with half-moon spectacles who had materialised beside Cedric was unmistakeable.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Harry cried, scrambling up, completely overwhelmed.

"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore spread his hands. "I am glad to see you. And I am more glad than ever that you remembered my words."

"Sir?"

Dumbledore winked. "Did you not tell Draco about the key to dealing with Voldemort?"

"Yeah." Harry's eyes drooped as he mumbled. "But it's no use now. I'm dead. Draco will be dead too."

Dumbledore sighed, and Harry feared the worst. But Draco had not appeared yet, so it was unlikely that he was dead. He squinted, but could not see anything that was happening in reality. This frustrated him immensely. "So what's happening now? Are Ron, Ginny and Hermione okay?"

"That really depends on you, Harry," said James, slowly.

"Me? But I'm dead!"

"Harry," Cedric began, seriously, and Harry turned towards him. Those sad, brown eyes of Cedric Diggory were haunting; it reminded him of the night Voldemort had killed Cedric, and it made Harry furious. But a little smile tugged at the edge of Cedric's lips. "You were the Triwizard champion. You know that to be a winner, you must have the tenacity to last through everything. You did it before. You can do it again."

"We were joint winners..." began Harry, but Sirius cut him off.

"Oh, come off your high horse, Harry, Chosen One the first minute, and joint winners the next? Harry, you are the only one who can get one over Voldemort!" Sirius' face turned a little darker. "He doesn't deserve to live for long!"

"No matter what, your mother and I are behind you." James came forward to put a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Don't worry about my body, Harry," Lily added. "I can assure you do not need to worry."

"Why not?" blurted Harry, bewildered. "The last Horcrux is you! The only way to destroy it is to destroy you along with it!"

"Oh, Harry," Lily shook her head. "The Horcrux is not me."

"What?"

"That night when he came into our house and attacked us," Lily's green eyes hardened, "when the Killing Curse he cast rebounded off you, it never hit me, which was what he believed. Instead, with the curse he cast on you, and the love that I shielded you with, a part of his soul was inadvertently transferred to you. Don't you see, that was why you can see through his eyes sometimes, like when you found out Arthur Weasley was being attacked by Nagini. Why you can speak Parseltongue. It's not a coincidence, Harry, you have a small part of him in you."

Harry could hardly feel himself now, let alone the cloth that was draped over him. "Are you saying... are you saying that I – I am the last Horcrux?"

Lily nodded. She looked at Dumbledore, who continued. "Since Voldemort had the mistaken impression that Lily's body had become his Horcrux, he had sent Bellatrix Lestrange to keep an eye on her grave ever since. He knew that this would be his trump card, because you, Harry, you would hesitate to destroy your mother's body, as you demonstrated earlier. He could take advantage of that hesitation to kill you. It was by coincidence that Draco was there, so that he could manipulate both of you to turn against each other."

Harry felt ill. A part of _Voldemort_. In him!

"Harry, you're not done with this yet," said Lily, an urgent note in her voice. "You are his Horcrux. Don't you get it? When he killed you?"

Harry stared at her. "You mean – " Suddenly light dawned upon him. "Oh my... so he has destroyed his own Horcrux?"

Lily's beautiful green eyes reminded Harry of his own as they shone. "You are not dead yet, Harry, it is only a passing phase. Voldemort has destroyed his own Horcrux by hand, and essentially that destruction of the Horcrux ripped his soul out of you... somehow leaving you intact. Nobody really knew what it was like to make a person a Horcrux, because it was too dangerous to try. But this has inadvertently allowed your life to be shielded from the impact. Because you are that special, my son, that special." And she leaned forward to plant a kiss on his forehead, that made him tingle from head to toe.

"Because you are that special to have all of us here," added Sirius, a little flippantly. "All of us who are so bored in hell."

"Sirius!" admonished Lily, but James chuckled. He and Sirius exchanged discreet high-fives.

Harry couldn't help grinning. "I'm not dead yet? Really?"

But his grin vanished when Dumbledore waved his hand. Suddenly before him, the faint outlines grew darker, more real, and then he saw the graveyard once again. Ron, Ginny, Hermione suspended in air. Harry's heart sank. Ron – his best friend forever, who had stood by him even till his death. Ginny – the girl who would always back him up as well, because she loved him so dearly, and his heart ached that he should have left her in that state. And Hermione – the friend whom he had thrust into the core of danger by getting her to make friends with Draco Malfoy, and now here she was, frozen, helpless. What had he done?

He could see his body on the ground, lying spreadeagled. But that was not the most horrifying sight. His eyes travelled upwards and saw a weakened Malfoy crawling towards the centre, Voldemort standing at a distance with his wand outstretched, a gleaming evil smirk on his face. Malfoy eventually mustered enough strength to stand up in front of Hermione, wobbly, but defiant. Harry couldn't hear what was being said between Malfoy and Voldemort, but he had a good guess. Malfoy had refused to succumb. His wand was raised.

"NO!" Harry screamed, trying to rush forward, but the image before him flooded into a blur once again, whirling in front of him. He couldn't see his parents, or Sirius, or Cedric or Dumbledore anymore. Everything faded into a grey swirl. All he knew was that he seemed to be spiralling down, down, down...

"Any last words, Draco?"

Harry opened his eyes to that poisonous voice. He tried to move, but he seemed to be stuck. Before he could feel his limbs, there was a sudden burst of green light shooting before his very eyes – it shot out from Voldemort's wand and hit Draco squarely in the chest. Another green light flew from the opposite direction, but Voldemort dodged it with lightning-quick speed. He could not dodge the white afterglow that was reflected from Draco's chest towards him, but he stood firm, eyes glinting with maniacal and sadistic delight. Harry could only watch in horror as Draco's eyes widened from the impact, his mouth slightly ajar, his whole body lit with the green-and-white light bursts.

"Malfoy..." Harry gasped. "No..."

There was a short burst of frightfully triumphant laughter, and it rattled Harry to the bones.

"No..." He stared as Draco collapsed to his knees, his eyes fixed on Harry in a mix of horror, despair and shock.

"NO!" But it hadn't issued from Harry himself; he turned left only to see Voldemort staring in utmost horror at himself. At his body which was becoming riddled with holes of bright, white light. Little, tiny holes that shone, as if Voldemort's body itself held light. "What is happening? What is happening?"

_Don't you get it?_ He could hear his mother's voice. _When he killed you?_

Then Harry realised what was happening. The cries of Voldemort had stirred up a memory – in the Chamber of Secrets, when he had stabbed Tom Riddle's diary with the basilisk fang, along with all the vengeance in his heart, and Riddle's cries had been just as desperate, just as terrified. Blood started to pulsate through Harry's veins, and touch came back to his fingers as he found himself feeling the cold of the ground once more. Quickly, his hand dove into his robes to pull out his wand. The light from Voldemort's body was getting brighter, stronger. Eating at him.

Upon sensing Harry's movement, Voldemort spun towards him, horror-struck. "You...!"

"It wasn't my mother, you murderer," hissed Harry as he found the strength to stand up. "It was _me_. You killed yourself when you killed me."

Realisation dawned upon Voldemort. He spasmed a little, but his slit-like eyes were locked onto Harry, a chilling stare. Harry gripped his wand tightly and narrowed his eyes.

A twisted smile appeared on Voldemort's face as a tremor ran through him. "At least I will not die by your hands, Potter, at least I die by mine!"

"Along with mine and Malfoy's, and Dumbledore's, because we destroyed your Horcruxes." Harry's eyes flashed. "But I don't really care, as long as you're gone from the face of this world."

"There will be others, Potter... others..."

"Yeah, we'll wait for them. Meanwhile, you can die."

"Ruthless little creature..." Voldemort sneered. "Talk about a murderer..."

Harry flinched. But just then, Voldemort's wand fell out of his grip as he began to shudder violently. His pale skin grew even paler, deathly-white, as if the light within him was threatening to combust from within. His hands stretched out, those skeletal fingers were reaching out, and Harry felt his scar burn like acid. To his amazement, he saw that Draco had not been keeled over by the Killing Curse; instead, he was gripping his left arm along with his wand, shaking. The bloody lips on his face was a chilling bloom of deep red compared to the white of his face.

"Malfoy..." whispered Harry, willing the blond boy to muster up all the last of his strength.

Draco's eyes met his. They were raging with fervour and vengeance.

Then Harry swung his wand towards Voldemort in a swift, deft movement.

Voldemort's eyes widened with fury and – with an emotion nobody had seen in him for a long while – despair.

_Ruthless little creature..._

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!_" Harry could hear Draco screaming it along with him from behind.

Two jets of green light collided with Voldemort as he roared, "NOOOOOO!"

With that, he burst into a million light pieces.

In that instant, there was nothing but bright white light. No four walls, no ground even. Just endless bright, white emptiness.

_"I'm so proud of you, Harry..."_

"Well done, my boy!"

"You are the real champion..."

"Dark times, these are... no longer... Harry, this time, you win."

For a moment, Harry basked in the glow of the bright, white light. It was triumph, delight, relief, exhaustion, sadness all radiating from within, and he closed his eyes to absorb it all.

_Ruthless little creature..._

His eyes snapped open, and he saw Dumbledore before him. The Headmaster smiled his slow, warm smile.

"Did I do right?" whispered Harry, feeling his insides turn hollow. "I – I cast an Unforgiveable..."

"It's not that, Harry," Dumbledore replied, gently. "He was trying to manipulate you. No, it may be Unforgiveable, but only when used wrongly. You have rid the wizarding world of a dangerous murderer. Along with Draco, the two of you have done everyone a tremendous service."

The word 'Draco' reminded Harry. "Is Malfoy... how come he..."

"Why he was still alive?" Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "When Voldemort killed you with the power of the Killing Curse, he destroyed his last Horcrux. But it was the most potent of all, because the last Horcrux contains the greatest part of his soul. It took a while for the destruction to take effect. So when he shot the Curse at Draco, it was only less than half the amount of power he should have used. Effectively, he only wounded Draco badly. Furthermore, Draco has his own defenses..." Dumbledore paused, as he adjusted his half-moon spectacles. "This is why, Harry, I said you have done well by telling Draco about the power against Voldemort."

"You mean..." Harry hesitated. "Was that white light that reflected off Malfoy..."

Dumbledore smiled. "He would have died, had he not made it his mission to protect Miss Granger at all costs. He couldn't lose another one he loved so dearly to Voldemort. And that desire was his greatest defence."

Harry could hardly speak.

"I must go now, Harry," said Dumbledore, placing a firm hand on Harry's shoulder. "The spirits and souls of the dead have done their duty in protecting you. But as your mother said, we are all very, very proud of you."

Tears pricked at Harry's eyes. "Thank you, sir... thank you."

-.-.-.-.-.-

Harry found himself lying face-down in the dirt. He groaned as he tried to pick himself up, but his limbs were aching terribly. His head was swimming with all kinds of things. At the corner of his eye, he saw a pile of black robes, drenched in a viscous silver liquid. Wincing, he managed to pull himself up, only to hear someone familiar cry,

"HARRY!"

At once, he was hauled up by several hands, and before he could gather his balance, whoever it was standing before him suddenly came into focus. The wavy red hair, the fierce and intense green eyes...

Harry choked as he stumbled forward and pulled Ginny into a tight hug, allowing the tears to run down his face unabashedly. Then he saw Ron standing by his side, brushing at his face absent-mindedly, and with a rueful smile. Harry sent one back, only to see Ron turn his head towards another sight – where Hermione was now cradling Draco's head with one hand and waving her wand above him with her other.

Immediately, Harry let go of Ginny, took her hand, and stepped forward. "Draco... is he..."

"He's still conscious." Hermione tried to calm herself down, as she stared into those deep grey eyes, which were at half-mast, and his lips were moving, but no sound issued from them. "But barely. None of the Healing spells are working!"

"What happened?" whispered Ginny, her cold fingers clammy against Harry's skin. "I thought I saw you die, I thought you were gone..."

Harry put a finger to his lips. "I'll tell you everything later, Gin. I promise."

"We need to get back to Hogwarts," said Ron, urgently gesturing to Draco Malfoy, who looked a complete mess. Quickly, he knelt down to help Hermione haul Draco up. Ginny held onto Harry, as the five of them limped their way out. Hermione's grip around Draco's waist tightened, as she hobbled him along, her heart racing frantically. She had seen everything – even in her frozen state, when her gaze was fixed ahead, she could hear everything that went on. She had known that Draco was standing in front of her when he absorbed the full impact of the Killing Curse. How he had survived it remained a mystery to her, but looking at him now, she could feel despair overtaking her. He was not going to make it!

"Draco..." she whispered, struggling to keep her voice steady. "Draco, you've got to hang in there. You hear me? You've got to hang in there!"

His eyelids shut for a few seconds, and Hermione's heart nearly stopped. But they fluttered slightly open again, and he looked almost drowsy. A trickle of blood dribbled out of the edge of his mouth, which was caked with crusted, dried blood at the sides. Hermione tried not to make any sound as she reached out with her thumb to brush it off, but she was screaming inside. She was about to walk a lot faster when she realised three figures were making their way towards them.

"Neville!" She heard Ron cry out in hoarse relief. "Neville! Luna! Corrinne!"

"Merlin, what happened?" Corrinne gasped, as she came forth with Neville's support, having somewhat recovered from her earlier injuries. "Did you all... did you..."

"He's done for," said Ginny, flatly, and Corrinne's eyes began to glitter. "But all questions later, we need to get both Harry and Malfoy back to Hogwarts. Especially..." She trailed off, staring at Draco, who chose that very moment to dribble more blood. Immediately, Luna pulled out her wand, and the blood was siphoned off. Quickly, she joined in supporting Draco, while Neville helped Corrinne along in the front. The obelisk in the middle of the town square came to view, and there was slight whinnying from the Thestrals.

"You know," muttered Corrinne, as she, Harry and Draco were first given a leg up onto the Thestrals. "I wish I was there to watch him die, that filthy creep..."

"I think you might have just become immobilised," said Ginny, neutrally. "Like the rest of us except Harry and Malfoy."

Corrinne raised her eyebrows, but caught Neville's shaking head. She bit her lip and said nothing, instead, watching as Hermione mounted the Thestral with Ron's help, holding onto a limp Draco in front of her.

"Can you manage, Hermione?" Ron eyed Draco, whose sides were heaving erratically.

"Yes please, Ron, let's go," pleaded Hermione, and Ron was startled to see how terrified she was. He hastily mounted his own Thestral, and then kicked off. The other Thestrals followed suit, and Hermione found herself rising into the air, clutching onto Draco. She kept whispering to him, but she had no idea whether he could hear her. She just knew she couldn't lose him. Memories were assaulting her as the chilly wind bit into her skin – their first patrol, when Draco had to pry Corrinne off her; the classroom incidents when he first insulted her, and then helped her in front of everybody, driving her furiously insane; the Quidditch pitch where he had shown her a first look at his vulnerability; the library where he had confessed his mission to kill Dumbledore, and the secrets his father had left for him; the Slug Club party where she had to sneak him in with Harry's Cloak; the Horcrux missions in Optimisticheskaya where they had scoured through the caves, fallen through cloaked openings, run through passageways...

The way she was holding him now... it reminded her of how she had to hang onto him when she was barely conscious herself, when they were in the caves looking for Maldash Wentervale. It was bitter irony.

Bitter irony. How angry he had been when he found out she had really betrayed him – even though he must have had suspected her before. But he had grown to trust her. When that trust was broken, he turned his back on her. But then – he couldn't just go off. The way she couldn't just leave him to fight for his revenge just like that. She just couldn't leave him anymore.

"Draco... he killed your parents, he killed Professor Snape... he can't kill you either. Do you understand? He can't kill you either!"

With that, she felt cold, shaky fingers brush against her hands, which were firmly around his middle. She held onto them tightly, muttering a soft prayer.

* * *

**A/N:** I know in canon, Harry is resurrected because of the Resurrection Stone, but this author is rather lazy to insert a brand new explanation of the Deathly Hallows, hence reducing it to a myth. And the actual act of resurrection is not very clearly explained in my fic either, but I don't really know how to make it sound perfect other than that Harry deserves to live, and the act of converting a person into a Horcrux has not been practiced before, hence the unusual result. Let's just leave it at there ;)

And as for Harry taking centrestage here, I don't suppose you can destroy Voldemort without the Chosen One in the fray. If you have read my first fic, I also made Draco and Harry BOTH kill Voldemort at the same time, because I don't know of any other befitting way than to get rid of him than to be killed by both someone who was designated his foe from day one, and someone who formerly worked under him and was forced to the other side because he couldn't take the pressure of being a Death-Eater anymore.


	42. This I Promise You

**Disclaimer:** I would claim to be a few degrees less cheesy than Rowling in her epilogue. Harry Potter & co. are hers, of course.

**A/N:** THE FINAL CHAPTER! Sorry it's a day late than the usual Sunday update, but I wanted to insert in all my thanks (which will occur at the bottom of this chapter). Oh wow, more than half a year of writing this story, I'm so glad you guys stuck to it, and stuck through it! I shall comment more later, meanwhile, do enjoy, as always (:

* * *

The shrill school bell rang, prompting the usual chorus of delighted whoops and cheers from the students while the staff inwardly sighed with relief. Hermione quickly packed up her books and darted out of the classroom, before Harry could get a word in. Ron chuckled as the two of them watched her dash out.

"Never seen Hermione so eager to leave a class, have you?"

Harry smiled, and gave Ron a friendly punch. "At least she doesn't look as awful as the last two days."

"Yeah, that's the only good thing Malfoy's done so far," muttered Ron, darkening. "Get better."

Harry eyed his best friend. "As much as I don't like him, he's changed a lot, you know. And he nearly gave up his life for Hermione. Are you still..."

"I know, alright?" Ron scowled. "I just don't like it. I've seen it for myself, but I still don't like it. I swear if he ever does let her down in any way, I'll..."

"If it's Quidditch, let me do the work." Harry grinned, and it was Ron's turn to shove him back.

Meanwhile, Hermione had scuttled across corridors, down the winding staircases, and finally slowed down as she approached the Hospital Wing. She could still remember the day when she was gripped with despair and pain as the Thestrals landed in Hogwarts, prompting Aberforth to receive them in horror and calling out the staff to help. Draco had ended up in the Hospital Wing, barely breathing. Yesterday he looked a little better, but still with a pretty weak constitution. Harry had told her the reason for Draco's survival of the Killing Curse, and her heart ached terribly.

_Draco, you stupid, stupid ferret..._

Just as she was about to enter, she heard Draco's faint voice, and she stopped altogether. He must be feeling better if he sounded like that, since previously he had been rasping and looking altogether like – like a raw hamburger, as her father always teased when she got herself all scraped and bruised in her childhood. Poppy's medicine must be working fantastic miracles.

And – he had a visitor.

_"...sorry that you had to be put through all that."_

"Draco Malfoy saying sorry to me?" It was Astoria Greengrass. _"I must be in a dream."_

"I'm serious."

Hermione frowned a little. Draco hardly ever apologised to anyone, even if he knew he was in the wrong. Why did he sound as if...

_"Hey. I never blamed you, you know."_

"I stole your family heirloom!" Draco sounded surprised. _"And I exposed your grandmother's secret!"_

"I know you were forced by circumstances," said Astoria, with a sigh. _"I really hated you at the start, and I was really scared that you would send the other Death Eaters after us. But then I realised that if you wanted to kill us, you would have done so a long time ago, when you were one-on-one with my grandmother. I didn't really believe that you had turned all evil after your father's death, no matter how I pretended as if I was snide and all that."_

Hermione tried to slow her heartbeat, but it was impossible. The way Astoria was speaking...

_"When I found out that Bellatrix Lestrange was looking for you because she wanted to punish you... it just felt terrible..."_

"Astoria...?"

"I like you, Draco." Astoria's voice softened. _"I've liked you for a while, and I still do. And through this all, I suddenly felt that you were so much more courageous than anybody I've ever known, the way you defied Voldemort in order to take revenge, the love you have for your family..."_

There was a short silence. Hermione took a deep breath.

_"You're just trying to get another apology from me, are you?"_ Draco's voice had turned a little sly.

To Hermione's surprise, Astoria chuckled once again. _"Possibly. It's not everyday Draco Malfoy has the mood to do so."_

"And it's not every other day Draco Malfoy would say thank you. So you had better treasure it."

"Is that how you appreciate my generous gesture?"

"It's too generous." Draco's voice had suddenly turned very serious. _"In fact, you've been too generous all along."_

"Maybe you could return me my necklace, along with Daphne's."

Draco snorted. _"That's considered done already. After I'm out of this stupid place and away from Soppy Poppy."_

Astoria giggled. Hermione didn't really understand what was going on, so she steeled her nerves and decided to walk in instead. Draco was looking so much better; his eyes widened at her entrance, while Astoria looked equally surprised. Hermione placed her schoolbag aside and pulled a chair close to Draco, a little warily and protectively. Draco stared at her with a raised eyebrow, but then he caught Astoria's dancing eyes before nodding slightly. Astoria got up, leaned over him and planted a little kiss on his forehead. Hermione's eyes widened tremendously, as Draco smiled pleasantly. Then Astoria whispered "Goodbye!" before she left the Wing.

Hermione didn't know what to make of that scenario. Even though Draco and her were not really – together, but after all that she had done, and he had done, and all that had been said and done...

"You look better," she remarked in a tight voice, staring at him.

"Very much, Astoria is lovely company," said Draco, pulling the blankets up to his chest as he sank lower into the bed. "Incredibly lovely."

"And I'm not?"

"Are those textbooks you brought?" Draco gestured to the schoolbag by the side. "Astoria brought me Quidditch books." He flipped a thumb to the side table, where a couple of books lay. "Which I'm going to read for sure. Textbooks? After what happened to Bathilda Bagshot,"–he shuddered–"I'm not so sure."

Hermione couldn't help feeling a little hurt. "Well then, I suppose she can come here everyday instead to keep you company."

"Certainly."

Hermione gave a little huff and was about to rise, when Draco burst into unusually bright laughter as he grabbed hold of her wrist. "Oh, Hermione, you're such a tease. Don't be a fool!"

She sat down and glared at him. "Well, if being a fool makes you laugh, instead of giggling along with you, I suppose I'm such great company!"

Draco sobered instantly. "You're terribly frightening when you're jealous."

"Jealous? Who said anything about being jealous?"

"You're so green in the face."

"It just means I'm sick. Sick of the mushy stuff you people were exchanging just now."

"Well, it's true that Astoria likes me," Draco replied, airily, and Hermione looked away. "But I never said anything about reciprocation."

"You sounded terribly happy."

Draco sighed, and loosened his grip on Hermione's wrist. He was a little startled when he saw that his grip had been a little harsh, leaving a slight mark. It reminded him of the last time he was in the Hospital Wing and he had been terribly rough to her. He could feel something cloud over his face, and Hermione was surprised to see his mood change.

"Oh, please don't tell me I'm such terrible company."

"I haven't really recalled conversations between the both of us being so lighthearted before."

"I guess you're not as charming as you make yourself out to be."

"Not when you've been branded in name and on skin..." His jaw hardened, and he was about to roll up his sleeve when Hermione grabbed his hand.

"Let it go, Draco. Let it go."

His hand slackened; instead, he took hers, startling her.

"Astoria's not the girl who risked her life to go on missions that she had no bloody business to be in, and she's not the one who helped me along to find out the truth. She's not the one my heart opened to so that I could search inside and find the key to defeat Voldemort. And she's not the one who keeps bloody hell figuring out what's on my mind so that I look like an absolute pothead in front of her. I mean, who faints in front of a girl just because she's been talking incessantly to him?"

His smirk grew wider with every word he spoke, but then he saw Hermione looking at him as if she was about to cry. "Oh come on, don't turn on the waterworks again."

And to his immense relief, she snapped, "Definitely not for you!"

"Now that sounds like the old Granger." He clutched her hand so tightly that she couldn't yank it out of his grip, earning himself a glare.

"So if Astoria's not the girl who does that, maybe she'll be the girl who will cook your breakfasts for you."

"Thinking of liberating the house-elves again, are you?" Draco smirked. "Well Astoria knows. She knows that she can never be the girl I love." His voice grew serious again, and Hermione privately marvelled at the way he was able to alternate between moods – _he must be a great actor_, she thought amusedly. "I told her earlier on how I defeated Voldemort. She just wanted to let me know how she felt, or she'd regret it her whole life. Didn't you hear me tell her sorry?"

Hermione bit back a smile. "No, the second time was implied. How was I to know?"

"I go for the subtle approach, Hermione Granger. Speaking of subtle, what were you doing eavesdropping outside? Is that a habit? I seem to remember you listening onto a conversation I had with Professor Snape in the Hospital Wing the last time..."

Hermione went red. "It's not my fault that you were speaking so loudly. I was wondering who had the ability to get you all energised, since yesterday you sounded like a dead duck."

"Ah, if I had been all well and healthy after my encounter with Voldemort, I don't think I would have elicited so much care and concern from you." Draco cocked an eyebrow at her. "Personally a near-death encounter was probably worth it."

"That's not funny." Hermione frowned. Then she grew a little angry. "And you were crazy, just standing there right in front of him! What were you thinking?"

"Are you saying I should have escaped?" scoffed Draco. "Don't be silly!"

There was a pause as Hermione's frown faded; it was replaced with a hesitant look. "Are you serious? I – you know, we've been sort of at loggerheads since first year, and if you remember our patrols and all that..."

"And I called you derogatory names about – oh, a hundred times possibly – and tried to hex and curse your best friends as well... really, do you want me to go into detail? It's not very good for the male ego. Honestly, are you and Greengrass out to make me feel completely wretched when I'm the one stuck in this Hospital Wing?" Draco sighed, pushing his head further back into the soft pillow. "You're so strange, have I told you that?"

"About a million times."

"But I'm just going to keep telling you that anyway." He began to rub circles on Hermione's hand with his thumb. "Because you're right. _I care._"

He said it so matter-of-factly, but it made her speechless. Seeing as there were no words that could possibly express the barrage of emotions within her, Hermione leaned in to kiss him. Their lips met slowly, softly, and when Hermione pulled away, she saw Draco's once-steely grey eyes sparkling silver. He, in return, was momentarily intoxicated by the familiar strawberry scent that lingered in the air.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Hermione returned to the Gryffindor common-room in a rather buoyant mood. Upon entering, however, she turned rather sober. Most of the Gryffindors had gone out to enjoy the spring air, leaving her friends alone in the room with rather solemn expressions. Ginny in particular, had red eyes, which alarmed Hermione considerably.

"Did... did something happen?"

Harry cracked a slight smile, but Ginny shook her head fiercely. "I can't believe you can still smile, Harry! You were killed! You were dead! You resurrected through sheer dumb luck that you were his Horcrux. I can't believe you–"

Harry shot Hermione a pleading look. _She's been on this for ages!_ His eyes begged.

"Ginny, he's well and alive before you now," said Hermione, calmly, as she settled into an armchair, cocking an eye at Ron, who shrugged and snuggled deeper into his chair. "Besides, Voldemort is dead now. Harry doesn't have a reason to worry anymore."

"Actually," said Harry. "I don't think it really just ends there."

Hermione gave him a disapproving look. _And you asked me to help you!_

Harry sighed, and decided to change the topic. "I've watched Professor Snape's memories. In Dumbledore's Pensieve."

Ron sat up. "So?"

"I guess I – you know," Harry mumbled, taking off his spectacles to wipe them. "I've always called him prejudiced, but I think I have been one prejudiced jerk myself. I never thought he was so devoted to my mother that he would turn against Voldemort because he killed her. I..." His voice cracked. "I always suspected his allegiance..."

"It's not your fault, mate," said Ron. "The way he always picked on you, and it was common knowledge he was a Death Eater!"

"Harry," began Hermione, gently, and he lifted his head to look at her. "I think all he wanted was for you to understand. He didn't need you to forgive him, I don't think he really liked you in all honesty – after what your father did to him... you don't have to feel bad."

Harry sighed again, putting on his spectacles, smiling wryly. "Guess what, the feeling's mutual."

Ron chuckled. "Well, mate, at least the burden's off you. You can stave off the pressure of being the Chosen One for the moment and just relax and go to Hogsmeade in the weekend to get free Honeydukes for saving the world. Blimey, we'd even have Firewhiskeys on the house if we popped by Madam Rosmerta's!" His eyes shone, and Harry and Hermione had to laugh.

Ginny still looked stony. Harry stopped laughing, cast an awkward glance at her, then moved over to put an arm around her. "Alright, alright, I promise you I won't get into another situation like that again, alright? I'm not going to leave you behind."

"Urgh." Ron mimed throwing up. He rolled his eyes and turned to Hermione. "Are you serious about going to Narcissa Malfoy's funeral? I mean, it's not like she was nice to you or anything... and what if some of them there are still loyal to..."

"I'll be fine, Ron," said Hermione, smiling.

"I'm sorry about not accompanying you, Hermione..." began Harry, but Hermione shook her head. "It's okay, I'm sure Draco will understand."

"As long as the ferret is there, it's not fine." Ron was still clearly not used to Hermione using Draco's first name so freely.

"Ron!" chided Hermione. "Okay, I don't expect the two of you to be best friends, but at least try to be civil? For my sake?"

"Gee, Hermione, you could have picked someone better. Someone who's less pompous, less of a git..."

"...well okay, I don't suppose he's going to like you anytime soon either."

Ron smirked. "Feeling's mutual."

All of them burst out into laughter.

Hermione stopped first, then looked around. "Where're the rest?"

Ginny's expression morphed into a sly smile. "Busy. Very busy."

-.-.-.-.-.-

She bent over the pale forehead that was lined with blonde rings, and kissed it gently. Her fingers traced the light wrinkles, and down the gaunt cheeks. The jawbones jerked a little, and her fingers retreated. The brown eyes had lost its lustrous red; only a dead stare was left. Slowly, a smile emerged on the face. But it was lopsided, almost cruel. The lips opened to reveal uneven teeth, yellow and brown. It was unsightly, almost horrific. But she did not recoil, only tracing the lips with her slender fingers.

_"I will learn! I will go to school! I will learn magic so that–"_

She could remember herself yelling at the top of her voice, only to be stopped by an onslaught of agony that washed over her, the pain that reminded her of her loss.

"I've been to hell and back, Mother. But you know what? All those who did this to you..." Her eyes trailed to the equally-gaunt man in the next bed. "And Father... they are all dead already. It's over."

She planted another kiss on the forehead, then she got up. Looked at the boy at the other end of the ward, tucking a sweet between his mother's lips.

_I know how it feels..._

Corrinne walked over, a smile slowly forming on her face. "Hey."

"Hey." Neville continued to push the sweet in, with the concentration of a surgeon. "Hey, Mum, it's strawberry, your favourite."

Alice Longbottom's eyes widened slightly, and her lips parted. Neville sighed happily as she sucked on it, her eyes glassy and her hair in a tousled mess. He pushed the wrapper in her hand, and she began to fold and crumple it with her fidgety fingers.

"I told my mum too." Neville stood up, smiling slightly at Corrinne. "Voldemort's dead. Bellatrix Lestrange's dead too. And for you... Lucius Malfoy is dead too."

"A long time ago, actually..." Corrinne sighed. "I should have been happy. I was just furious that people were sympathising with his son. But I think after all this... well, let's just say I will never ever forgive Lucius Malfoy. Even if he was doing it under Voldemort's orders. He tortured my parents, he's almost made me an orphan. He had a family, he should have known what it felt like!" She clenched her fists, her red eyes glittering once again. Neville hesitated, then walked over to her. But her eyes were still fixed on Alice Longbottom, who was sucking her sweet in a slow, monotonous way. The paper wrapper lay wrinkled at the end of her fingers as she lay stoic on the bed. "He should have known... and I think he knew... that was why he decided to turn against Voldemort at the end, because he didn't want to sacrifice his family. I should hate him incredibly... but after what he did, I find myself unable to be so... so..."

"It's okay," Neville said, quietly, and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his embrace. "It's tormenting, isn't it? It's just that people have shades of grey. You know, just like Malfoy junior."

"Mmf..." Corrinne's voice was muffled, but laced with a hint of resentment. Neville chuckled inwardly, knowing that she did feel guilty towards Draco Malfoy for all the things she had said to him, although she was probably never going to say she was sorry. After a while, he turned Corrinne towards his mother and called out to Alice,

"Hey, Mum."

He looked at a surprised Corrinne brightly. Then he turned to his father on the next bed. "This is Corrinne."

"Uhh..." Corrinne raised an eyebrow, then gave a tentative wave to Alice. "Hey."

"She's my girlfriend."

Corrinne's head snapped towards him; her red eyes were shining with amazement and love.

"You know, your cheek colours sort of match your eyes."

"Oh shut up!"

-.-.-.-.-.-

For somebody who had withdrawn into her house following her husband's death, and cut off most ties to the wizarding world thereafter, Narcissa Malfoy had a lot of attendees at her funeral. There she lay, in the middle of a room in the Ministry of Magic, dressed in her best and lain in a beautiful white coffin. One by one, people walked past, murmuring amongst themselves, some even blatantly staring. One woman burst out all of a sudden to scream,

"MURDERERS! FAMILY OF MURDERERS! YOU SHOULD BE DEAD ALONGSIDE VOLDEMORT!"

She was immediately whisked away by Ministry officials, kicking and screaming at the top of her lungs all the way. It was a jarring cacophony that cut through the silence sharply, and the discomfort showed on the guests' faces. Even Hermione winced, but beside her, Draco did not look up from where he was seated; his head was bent and his eyes staring at the ground. Hermione privately wondered how many people Lucius Malfoy had to deal with before he decided it was enough. Corrinne's parents, someone this woman loved...

"Mr. Malfoy?" It was Rufus Scrimgeour, the Minister for Magic. Hermione tried hard not to roll her eyes upon seeing him; Harry had told her all about Scrimgeour's tactics to get him to endorse the Ministry's actions, which proved to be rather ridiculous and altogether irritating. Upon hearing that both Draco and Harry had been responsible for Voldemort's death, however, he had kept mum, for it showed the incompetence of the Ministry in doing their job to capture the Dark forces. And the discontentment showed on his face as he glared at Draco, his voice a little forced. "The guests have all arrived."

Draco had not wanted to do an eulogy for his mother. All he wanted was to pay his respects to her. He adjusted his tie slightly, before he rose and walked towards the coffin. Hermione hesitated, then stood up and followed suit. She stopped short at the edge of the coffin, watching as Draco's fingers reached out to touch the glass cover. He closed his eyes and bent his head, not saying a word.

Eventually he raised his head and stepped back a little. Hermione walked up to him and whispered,

"Harry and Ron send their condolences."

Draco turned his head towards her, then nodded slightly. His eyes were shimmering silver, but he had turned away the moment she noticed. Slowly, his fingers reached out for Hermione's hand and led her in front of the coffin, facing the audience. She started a little when she felt his cold fingers wrap around hers, especially when she saw Lupin and Tonks rising from the seats and walking towards them. However, Tonks gave her a little smile, and she felt more relaxed, intertwining her fingers with Draco's.

"The other Death Eaters," said Lupin, in a low voice, once he had come forward, prompting Draco to stare at him, "have been rounded up by the Aurors. Their cover of protection assured by Voldemort has been completely busted. That would include Augustus Rookwood." Lupin eyed Draco significantly, and Draco dipped his head in acknowledgement. "He was severely injured, but still alive. Horace Slughorn has also been arrested. However..."

"We cannot rest on our laurels," continued Tonks, her hair turning a little reddish along with the dangerous spark in her eyes. "There may be others. Not under him, but like him."

Her words seemed to echo that of Harry's, and Hermione bit her lip.

"I understand," was all Draco said.

"Might I add," Lupin turned to Hermione sternly, "that you will tell Harry for me that I am not all pleased he decided to go to Godric's Hollow on his own accord."

Hermione flushed, as Lupin guided Tonks along, though not before Tonks gave Hermione a wink that made her blush a deeper red.

The Hogwarts teachers followed after, causing Hermione to shake out of her embarrassment, and Professor McGonagall in particular gave Draco a long, hard look, but he did not meet her gaze for long. She then turned to Hermione, nodded stiffly, and then walked off.

"My, my, Malfoy junior," came an unfamiliar voice that sounded a little wheezy. Hermione was startled to see a shaggy white-haired man take Draco's hand in his. From behind, a familiar face appeared, the recent scars all healed well and revealing the pretty pale face of Luna Lovegood.

"Luna!" exclaimed Hermione, and spontaneously embraced the girl. "You look so much better!"

Luna smiled brightly. "I see you are well too. This is my father, Xenophilius." Then she turned to Draco, who was not looking very pleased at the train of words that was issuing from Xenophilius Lovegood's mouth. He nodded curtly and quickly removed his hand, looking rather disgruntled. Hermione hid a smile as Luna turned her brilliant smile onto Draco. "Hi, Draco."

Draco relaxed a little, for Luna had sort of saved his life before, no matter how eccentric she was. "Thanks for coming, Lovegood. And uhh – for trusting me."

Luna nodded. "I am sorry about your mother. I hope she rests in peace with the Wadruts. They are very pleasant company, though they may be a little pesky towards bright colours. Your mother may have to dye her hair." And with that, Luna turned and walked off, her father following her, constantly looking back to beam at Draco.

Hermione stifled a chuckle, then looked back at Draco, who was torn between looking disgusted and amused. "So... what did her father say?"

"You know, after what Lovegood said, I don't think anything else could make more sense," said Draco, keeping his face straight.

His expression faltered slightly when the next pair came forth. His eyebrows began to furrow together.

"Hi, Draco," Blaise cleared his throat. "I – I am sorry. About your family."

"My – condolences too," added Pansy, though she did not look at Draco.

"Hey look." Draco's expression was now that of annoyance. "It's over and done with. Our families don't have to deal with this anymore. Maybe other people might talk, but at least we're going to carry on living. There's no huge fear of death anymore. You both may have done terrible things, but at the end of the day it doesn't really matter anymore. Pans, you've got Blaise back. Blaise, you've realised how little being a Death Eater is worth. We're all alive, and you've got each other. That's all that matters."

It was a strange speech, coming from Draco Malfoy, but somehow it stirred something within Hermione. Something that felt like – pride. Pride at seeing him change so much; pride at seeing him happy for his friends. Draco Malfoy, who had only been known in the past for having mindless lackeys like Crabbe and Goyle, had now moved on to being good, honest friends with Blaise and Pansy. The boys exchanged a fierce hug, with tears streaming down Blaise's face. Draco released him, made a snide comment that made Blaise glare at him and brush away his tears. Pansy couldn't help laughing, though she stopped and stared at Draco for a long while, before he pulled her into a light embrace. Then Blaise took Pansy's hand and they turned to walk off. Neither of them had looked at Hermione when they had come forward, but just as they left the room, Pansy turned back to meet Hermione's gaze, and to her utmost surprise, gave her a rare smile. Before Hermione had a chance to respond, both were out of the door.

It was awkward continuing to stay there facing a bunch of people she had barely any acquaintance with, though she knew she wanted to accompany Draco. After Blaise and Pansy had left, she had untangled her fingers from Draco's and hung back in the shadows a little. Finally, the last of the attendees left, and Draco turned back to his mother's coffin. He knelt down and hung his head. Hermione decided to leave him alone, and walked out of the room. Not long after, she heard footsteps behind her.

"Come with me," was all he said, before she was whisked away to the nearest Fireplace. The next thing she knew, she was standing in a garden. She looked back to the enormous building behind it, and recognised that it was his house.

"I'm jealous." She stared around the beautiful garden weakly. Or rather, it was almost like a meadow, except that it was fenced.

"Oh, now you admit it," said Draco, with an amused smile. Then he held out his hand. "Come on."

He pulled her to the far end of the meadow, where the sun was setting. However instead of the usual red and orange and pink hues, the sky was a little greyish, with bluish and purplish tinges.

"It isn't too bad," commented Draco, stuffing his free hand into his pocket. "Reflects my mood."

As he said that, memories began to pour in once again. His father, telling him stories about the pureblood families; his mother, helping him to buy robes at Madam Malkins; even Aunt Bellatrix who told him that he would one day be somebody great. Then one by one, they had left him.

But not without showing him his strengths.

_"I know you will avenge your father, the way your father wanted to protect you."_ Wentervale's voice drifted into his mind.

And weaknesses.

_"I may be weakened,"_ Dumbledore had said. _"But there are many more weak points about you than you think you have, Draco. One of them is that you are incapable of killing somebody you know who doesn't deserve to be killed."_

_"Come on, little Draco,"_ It was Voldemort now. _"Fight me. I want to see if you are really worthy to be one of my minions, or if you are just as useless as Harry Potter with only one trademark spell! You know, I thought I'd never live to see the day a Malfoy, a pureblood, would align himself with the likes of blood traitors and a mudblood, much less my greatest enemy of all. But I will live beyond this day, little Draco, I can assure you."_

_Guess what,_ thought Draco. _You won't. I can assure you._

"Draco..." began Hermione, but he shook his head.

"I am not going to pity myself. And neither are you going to pity me. War has its casualties, and my family was part of it. War changes people, as it has done to me. And what happens in war may not work well in life post-war." He turned towards Hermione. "Do you understand?"

Hermione nodded. "But I know some things don't change either."

Draco hesitated.

_"You aren't making me hate you!"_ She had glared at him. _"You're... you're making me–"_

He let go of her hand to roll up his sleeve once again. This time, she didn't stop him. Even with Voldemort's death, the scar still showed, though no longer as obvious as before. Now, it was only a faint image that barely had any movement in it. Hermione reached out to trace it; he flinched.

"Hermione..."

"War changes people," she repeated, then helped him to roll his sleeve down again. "I know better than to distrust you."

_"I told you you do the strangest things..."_ He remembered whispering. _"You can even appease my anger even after this act of betrayal. I hated you so badly. I wanted to kill you there and then, so you can be out of my life. But no. Everytime I think about what happened, you're always there. When you want to leave me, I can only think of wanting you to stay. What's wrong with you, Hermione Granger, why are you always doing this to me?"_

He sighed. "Then this morning..."

She swatted at him, and he grinned momentarily. "Very funny."

"I have no kin now, Hermione." He turned serious once again. "You're all that I have in my new life, that is now. So – with my sort-of promise in war fulfilled, I will have another promise then, for the new beginning after the war." He took hold of both her hands. "Hermione, I..."

"No," she cut him off, and he looked considerably startled. "No."

"But..." he started to look a bit frustrated. _Of course_, Hermione thought with an inward chuckle. _He's still got the old Malfoy air; nobody says 'no' to a Malfoy._

"No," she repeated, this time a lot more gently. "This time, I will be the one promising you. That you will still have me no matter what."

"You're putting me on credit, aren't you?"

She winked. "Who knows."

"Well... then I suppose that's all I can be grateful for," he remarked, before bending his head to kiss her once more.

**FINE.**

* * *

**A/N:** THANK YOU ALL FOR WADING THROUGH THIS STORY, BOUQUETS FOR ALL! I know it was a little cheesy trying to round up stuff, but I hope it got through with that tinge of reality that it may not be perfect because there will be others who may rise again... please do leave a note to let me know what you thought of it, and the whole story in general! Those who have read thus far but haven't dropped a note, do drop one to say hi to let me know you're out there! I'll continue updating this list as long as I have reviewers (: Here goes:

To my loyal reviewers **Midnight Moonfly** (I believe you were known as DiabloAngelos before?)**,** **gitgit** (who never fails to review EVERY CHAPTER - hearts!)**, satoz, TwistyWristy****, LastSunset, voldyismyfather, Mistrus, Jamie, Nightraze, WinnieThaPoo92, David Fishwick, Sarahcaleb01, Lisa, Earenya **and especially **the shattered star** for your multiple reviews, constructive feedback and criticisms, and all the support and encouragement for this fic - you guys really really make my week everytime I upload a chapter (: Thank you so much!

**Whoopsydaisy, slytherin-kittycat** (oh haven't heard from you in ages!)**, lobandgeek7, Redstar03, The Princess Wolf, SweetSweetRevenge, -Chitsiez-, windsor969, Black Raven Midnight, seriana14, blackrose4ever, Kaitlyn2232, Beelzebubify, X3klx3, .22, Rachella23, kaikuduo, ****itsmidnighthere, Aria, kavii, everytimeyoulookatme, 2ndstar2daRight2, CrystalHeart27, Peace n Luv, PookietoyourMaureen, drusezgrrbaddog, Shlayne, AllThatIsGoldDoesNotGlitter, PyroAngel8605, theconscience, MyyBlueRose, Tentaira, cherryVanillaCoke16, Anarriima-illuvavatar, AlyenBlack2, sugeisy, Coeur de l'amour, wealseyismyking15, Rae1191, musicmakesfun, Jade Ice Fire, Ravensnake, sheeprock, ambiencealikw, FaceOfADaisy, xxHiddenDesirexx, iRabid, SlytherinTwinCC, EllieBaby** and all the **Anonymous** reviewers for dropping by and dropping a note or two to let me know that I'm going in the right direction.

To the validators at Hawthorn & Vine for editing my work when I uploaded it there, so that I may transfer the edited version back here: **elyaeru, inadaze22, Lyndsie** for the constructive feedback and all the lessons in punctuation, grammar, Britspeak and canon!

ARIGATOU GOZAIMASU!

As for my upcoming works, I may do a few Animorph one-shots in the meantime, though I will try to work on a post-Hogwarts Dramione fic in time to come. Please continue to support my writings (: You may peruse the whole list at elektra30[dot]livejournal[dot]com. Have a good year ahead!


End file.
